


This Is A Story About A Scarlet Letter

by DJ_unicornsrgr8



Series: Fanfic/Side Stories for Darling, I'm Just Lying to Myself [9]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Depression, Flashbacks, M/M, Panic Attacks, Read tags, Self Confidence Issues, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJ_unicornsrgr8/pseuds/DJ_unicornsrgr8
Summary: PLEASE READ THE TAGS before reading! (they can change)Set in the verse of Darling I'm Just Lying to Myself by butmeltyourheadaches! (Can be read separately, but I'd highly recommend reading DIJLtM! It's great!) Spencer had always been good at keeping secrets, and contemplating suicide was no exception. That is, until little Mikey found him one night in the bathtub.I'm kinda proud of this one, I hope you enjoy it!





	1. Can't Unsee

**Author's Note:** **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Mikey finally sat up, looking at the numbers illuminated on the clock by his bed. 1:07 AM. He had to pee, but he hated getting up in the middle of the night. The dark was scary, especially in a big house. But he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t use the bathroom, so he grabbed his teddy bear and slipped out of bed. The hall had night lights about every fifteen feet, so Mikey scurried from bright spot to bright spot until he reached the bathroom. 

The door was closed, which was a bit odd. The door was only ever closed if someone was inside, and there was no light shining from beneath the door. Mikey turned the door handle slowly, then pushed it open. He reached up to flick on the lights, and nothing could’ve prepared him for the scene before him. Brightness illuminated the small room, reflecting off the blood pooled on the floor. Spencer was unconscious in the tub with more blood than Mikey thought could be possible surrounding him. Mikey dropped his teddy bear, frozen for a moment. Then, he began to scream.

Dallon came hurdling down the hall, skidding to a stop and inhaling sharply. Calm. He had to stay calm. He pulled out his phone and immediately dialed 911, wrapping his arms around a still-screaming Mikey. He heard a faint gasp and saw Tyler in the doorway, a hand over his mouth. 

“Take Mikey, please,” Dallon said urgently. Tyler snapped into action and nodded, scooping Mikey into his arms and carrying the sobbing boy down the hall. 

“Tyler? What’s going on?”

Tyler turned around to see a groggy Brendon poking his head out into the hall.

“It’s bad,” he said, his voice barely audible over Mikey’s screams. “Don’t go near the bathroom.”

“Why?”

Tyler shook his head. “Not now.”

For once, Brendon didn’t push it. Tyler entered his room and sat on his bed, cradling Mikey in his arms.

“Shh,” he whispered soothingly. “Shh…”

Mikey was still crying, but not as loudly. Tyler took a deep breath and began to sing.

 

“Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty sleeper  
Your twisted mind is like snow on the road  
Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder  
Inside your head than the winter of dead…”

 

Mikey buried his head in Tyler’s shirt, his body shaking in silent sobs. Tyler ran his fingers through Mikey’s hair and continued the song.

 

“I will tell you I love you  
But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears  
My nose and feet are running as we start  
To travel through snow  
Together we go  
Together we go

 

We get colder  
As we grow older  
We will walk  
So much slower…”

 

Tyler looked down at the whimpering boy in his lap and pulled him closer.

 

“Oh, Miss Believer, my pretty weeper  
Your twisted thoughts are like snow on the rooftops  
Please, take my hand, we're in foreign land  
As we travel through snow  
Together we go  
Together we go

 

We get colder  
As we grow older  
We will walk  
So much slower…”

 

Mikey’s breaths were still uneven, and Tyler continued to hold him tight. It would take a while for Mikey to be okay after seeing that. Tyler was a bit rattled himself, he couldn’t imagine being Mikey’s frail age. The boy flinched heavily and began to sob again, grabbing fistfuls of Tyler’s shirt as if to ground himself.

“I’m right here, Mikes. Right here. It’s gonna be okay,” Tyler whispered. “Shh, shh. I got you.”

Mikey quieted a little, and Tyler sang him a lullaby. After a few verses, Mikey’s eyes fell shut and he drifted into a light sleep. He was exhausted. The peace didn’t last long, though. It was thirty minutes tops until he awoke screaming and Tyler held him and sang until he calmed and eventually dozed off. The process repeated until around 6:00 AM, when Tyler heard Dallon enter the house and make his way upstairs. He stopped in Tyler’s doorway and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. If Tyler looked tired, Dallon was dead on his feet. 

“Is Spence…” Tyler whispered, not wanting to wake Mikey. Dallon understood.

“He’ll make it.”

Tyler sighed in relief.

“How’s Mikey?” Dallon asked.

“Not good.”

Dallon shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Go to bed, Dallon,” Tyler said.

“No, I can take Mikey. You should sleep. You’ve been awake this whole time, too.”

Tyler shook his head firmly. 

“Go rest. You need it more,” he said.

“I… I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Dallon confessed. “Not alone.”

Tyler patted the bed beside him.

“Sleep here.”

Dallon looked like he was about to protest, so Tyler shook his head.

“Don’t argue. I’m stubborn.”

“Well… alright.” Dallon sat down beside Tyler, and Tyler gave him a gentle shove so he was laying on his side. 

“Get some rest. I’ll take care of Mikey.”

Tyler waited for a reply, but Dallon was already asleep.

A couple more hours passed, and Mikey only woke up once. He calmed quicker and fell back into a soft doze. Tyler could hear the other boys begin to wake, and he grabbed his phone and texted Brendon to block off the upstairs bathroom before anyone could find the mess inside. He heard Brendon amble down the hall to comply, and the boy appeared in his doorway a few minutes later.

“What the hell happened?!”

“Not now, Bren. And lower your voice, I’ll kick your butt if you wake either of these two.”  
Brendon’s face softened. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t let anyone in the bathroom.”

“I won’t. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Get Gerard for me.”

Brendon nodded and hurried off down the hall. He returned a few minutes later, a sleepy Gerard in tow.

“Is Mikey okay?” Gerard asked when he saw his brother, all traces of tiredness gone.

“Quite honestly? No. He saw something terrible last night, and it’s gonna take him a while to be okay. But he will be okay, I promise.”

Just then, Mikey jolted awake and began to sob. Gerard rushed forward and sat beside Tyler, taking his brother’s hand as Tyler rocked him back and forth. Dallon twitched in his sleep, but his eyes stayed shut. 

“Is… Is Mr- Is Dallon okay?” Gerard asked once Mikey had settled.

“Dallon’s okay. He’s just very tired. Neither of us slept last night.”

“How are you awake?” Gerard asked, concerned.

“I’ve gone 72 hours without sleep before,” Tyler shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Okay… Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Can you help Josh make breakfast? I’m going to stay here and take care of your brother.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Thank you, Gee.”

Gerard leaned over and kissed his brother’s forehead, then scurried away. Dallon started to toss a bit in his sleep, and Tyler rubbed his back gently.

“Ty, have you seen Dal- oh.” Pete was standing in the doorway, his face surprised. “How come…”

“Not now, Pete.”

“Should we start breakfast without you guys?”

Tyler nodded.

“‘Kay.”

Pete disappeared and Tyler returned to rubbing Dallon’s back. The poor man. Tyler had a huge amount of respect for him. About ten minutes passed, and Dallon suddenly awoke with a gasp. His breaths were uneven, and Tyler rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Shh.”

Dallon inhaled deeply.

“Sorry,” he murmured. He looked around. “What time is it?”

“Breakfast started ten minutes ago or so.”

“Ah, shoot! The bathroom! I meant to clean it up…” Dallon ran his fingers through his hair. 

“How many of the boys saw it?”

“I got Brendon to block it off, so just him.”

“You’re a saint, Tyler. I swear.”

Tyler shook his head.

“You definitely are. Anyways, I really should go talk to the boys…” Dallon sighed. “You need sleep. Should I ask Gerard to watch Mikey?”

Tyler shook his head.

“I can do it. I’m fine, honestly.”

“I can’t allow-”

“Dal, I didn’t sleep for three days when I first got here. I’m fine.”

“You what?!”

“Nothing…”

“You should’ve told me! I’m so sorry, I’m the worst…”

“You’re the best. The actual best. I shouldn’t’ve told you that just now. I’m fine, Dallon. Go downstairs and talk to everyone, okay?”

“I can’t believe… okay. Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	2. Questions, Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news is broken.

Dallon walked down the stairs, running his fingers through his hair again. He paused outside the dining room. Everyone was talking and laughing… He wished he didn’t have to tell them. But there was no way around it. He stepped into the room and cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent for a brief moment.

“You look like shit,” Frank said, and Ryan admonished him.

“Where’s Spencer?” Pete asked.

“Where’s Tyler?” Josh added.

“Where’s Mikey?” asked Patrick.

“Where were you?” Frank put in.

“Why can’t we use the bathroom?” Ryan questioned in turn.

“Who kept screaming last night?” asked Pete.

“Guys, shut it. He’ll explain.” Brendon said.

“I will,” Dallon sighed, sitting down. “Okay. I really hate to be so blunt, but I don’t think there’s a nice way to put this. Spencer attempted suicide last night. Mikey found him in the bathroom… You have to realize that Mikey is very young, and what he saw is going to stick with him. Tyler’s with him right now. As for Spencer, he’s going to be okay. He lost a lot of blood, but not too much. I’m not sure how long he has to stay at the hospital.”

The room was silent, and the air was heavy.

“I’m sorry, boys. I hate to ruin your breakfasts with that news.” Dallon rested his head in his hands to hide the defeated look on his face. Everyone startled a bit as Mikey’s screams echoed through the house, and the faint sound of Tyler singing followed them. Frank stood up and walked over to Dallon, tentatively wrapping his arms around the tall man. Dallon hugged Frank back, a tiny bit of light returning to his eyes.

“Thank you, Frank.”

Frank nodded and sat back down. Dallon’s phone began to ring, and he fished it out of his pocket.

“It’s the hospital. I’m sorry boys, I have to take this.” Dallon stepped out into the hall and began to pace back and forth as he spoke. Nobody in the dining room said a word. There was nothing to say.

All eyes were on Dallon when he reentered the room a few minutes later.

“I'm going to go see Spencer soon, but I need to talk to a few of you first. Brendon, can you come with me?”

Brendon nodded and followed Dallon to his office.

“Are you doing okay, Bren?”

“I'm okay. It's just… Spencer’s one of my best friends, y'know?” Brendon choked up a bit at   
the end. 

“I know. It's not easy. He's going to be okay, I promise.”

Brendon nodded, his head down.

“Can you promise me to be safe?”

Brendon nodded again.

“I need verbal agreement, Bren.”

“I promise to be safe.” Brendon's voice shook as he spoke.

“And you'll come to me if you feel like you can't keep your word?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you. C’mere, Bren.”

Dallon held out his arms, and Brendon fell into them gratefully. 

“He's gonna be okay…”

After a few moments, Brendon pulled away.

“Thanks, Dal.”

“Sure. Go get Gerard, okay?”

Brendon left the room, and Gerard appeared a minute later.

“How are you feeling, Gerard?”

“I’m really worried about Mikes,” the boy sniffled. “And Spencer, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Dallon said softly. “It’s a lot of stuff to deal with all at once. Things are going to end up okay, though. I promise.”

Gerard nodded, and Dallon handed him a tissue.

“Can you make me a promise now?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you’ll stay safe?”

“I p-promise.”

“Okay. Thank you, Gerard. Can you send in Josh?”

“I will.”

Josh slid into the office not thirty seconds later, and his face crinkled in concern when he   
saw the bags of exhaustion under Dallon’s eyes.

“Are you alright, Dal?”

“I’m supposed to ask you that, not the other way around,” was Dallon’s weak attempt at a humorous reply.

“Seriously.”

“I’m just tired and stressed and…” Dallon trailed off with a shake of his head.

“And?”

“And I feel awful for not picking up on how Spencer was feeling! I’m terrible, Josh. I’m supposed to keep you boys safe, and-” Dallon cut himself off by covering his face with his hands. He ducked his head, and Josh saw his shoulders tremble a bit.

“Dal, you’re not terrible. Look at how many of us you’ve saved.”

“But… but Spencer-”

“Dallon, you shut up and listen to me right now!”

Dallon looked up at Josh in surprise and closed his mouth.

“Don’t you dare beat yourself up about Spencer. He hid how he was feeling from every one of us. There’s no way you could’ve known, okay? No way.”

Dallon shook his head.

“Don’t you fucking dare argue with me.” Josh looked legitimately angry, and his voice was loud enough that Pete poked his head into the room in concern. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes-”

“No! Dallon’s blaming himself for Spencer!”

“Josh, how about you go and clean the kitchen?” Pete suggested pointedly. Josh frowned, but took Pete’s hint and left the room. Pete sat down beside Dallon and sighed.

“He’s right, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Dallon whispered. “But I can’t help it. I feel responsible.”

Pete nodded. “What did they tell you on the phone?”

“He’s awake. Kinda groggy, pretty upset. They told me that he said he didn’t want to be an… an inconvenience to me…” Dallon didn’t seem to be able to say more. Pete took his hand.

“You should go see him. I’ll come for moral support. We should take Brendon, too.”

Dallon nodded. He let Pete lead him to the front door.

“Brendon, you’re coming with us to see Spencer!” Pete shouted, and Brendon was there in ten seconds tops. They headed out to the car, and Pete grabbed Dallon’s wrist when he reached for the driver’s side door handle.

“I’ll drive.”

“Thank you,” Dallon exhaled. He passed Pete the keys and plopped into the backseat. Brendon sat beside him, resting his head on Dallon’s shoulder. They sat in silence the entire ride; Brendon didn’t even reach forward to turn on the radio. Dallon stared out the window and watched trees fly by. He didn’t know what he’d do without the boys.

 

\-----

 

Mikey’s eyes flew open, his body shaking. 

“Breathe, Mikes. Breathe,” Tyler murmured. Mikey’s eyes seemed to focus for the first time since… it. 

“Tyler?”

“Right here, Mikes. I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Tyler, is Sp- Spen…” Mikey flinched and shook his head violently as if trying to unsee things. He choked down a sob, unable to say anything more.

“He’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

Mikey’s swollen eyes widened.

“He’s… al- alive?”

“He’s alive. Dallon went to see him with a couple others.”

“I…” Mikey whimpered. “I thought he… he…”

Tyler rubbed his back gently.

“Was d-dead,” Mikey finished, the last word broken into sobs. “Blood…”

Mikey’s eyes seemed to unfocus a bit and he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a shriek. Tyler held him tight and he screamed into Tyler’s chest for a bit before the noise turned into weak cries. Tyler began to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, pushing through as his voice cracked a couple times. After the song ended he winced a bit. His throat was getting a little dry. 

“I’m thirsty,” Mikey whispered a few minutes later.

“Me too. I can text Josh to bring us some water,” Tyler offered, but Mikey shook his head.

“He doesn’t have to do that.”

“We can go get some, then?”

Mikey nodded. He got up and grabbed Tyler’s hand, gluing himself to Tyler’s side as they walked. 

“Mikey!” 

Mikey lifted his head slightly and saw Frank in the doorway to the living room.

“Hi, Frank,” he whispered.

“Can I give you a hug?” Frank asked, and Mikey nodded. Frank hugged Mikey carefully and then slipped into the living room, reappearing a moment later with Gerard by his side. 

“Hi, Gee,” Mikey said softly, and Gerard’s eyes filled with tears.

“Mikes,” Gerard exhaled, wrapping his brother in a warm embrace. “Do you need anything?”

“We were just heading to the kitchen to get water,” Tyler said when Mikey didn’t reply. Mikey hadn’t let go of his hand the entire time. Gerard nodded. 

“Let me know if you need me.”

“Okay,” Mikey said. He and Tyler entered the kitchen, where Josh was doing the dishes.

“Hey, Joshie.” Josh spun around, nearly dropping a plate.

“Ty!”

Tyler gave Josh a tired smile and a peck on the lips. Josh looked like he might voice concern about Tyler’s exhaustion, but Tyler shook his head minisculely.

“Hi Mikey,” Josh said instead, giving the boy a small wave. Mikey gave an even tinier wave back, as well as what could possibly be the beginning of a smile.

“Do you need food, water?”

“Definitely water.” Tyler replied. “Mikes, are you hungry?”

Mikey shook his head.

“Me neither.” Tyler looked back to Josh. “Just water.”

“Can-do,” Josh said, grabbing a couple cups and filling them with water.

“Thanks,” Tyler said, and Mikey echoed him. Josh smiled and grabbed the dishrag from the sink. He picked up a knife and began to scrub it as he turned back to Tyler and Mikey.

“I heard this sick new drumbeat from some metal artist and I wanna try to replicate it. It’s kind of a one-two-three…” Tyler nodded along with interest as Josh spoke. Mikey was eyeing the object in Josh’s hands and trying to breathe. He didn’t want to think about it he didn’t want to think… He dropped his empty plastic cup and ducked behind Tyler, his lungs aching for air.

“Mikes?” Tyler looked from Mikey to Josh and his eyes widened.

“Josh, please put that down.”

Josh put the knife back in the sink and his face tightened in realization. 

“Crap, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

Tyler crouched down beside Mikey.

“Can you take deep breaths for me? Breathe in, breathe out…”

Mikey began to see stars and he gulped down as much air as he could.

“Can you tell me what color comes after red?”

“Or-” Mikey’s voice cut off and he tried again. “O-orange.”

“And after orange?”

“Yellow.”

“After yellow?”

“Gr-green.”

“What about after green?”

“Blue,” Mikey inhaled deeply.

“And then?”

“Purple.”

“Good. Backwards?” Tyler pressed.

“Purple, b-blue, green, yellow, orange, red.”

“Red plus white?”

“Pink.”

“Blue and yellow?”

“Green.” Mikey’s breaths were steadier, and his voice was no longer cracking.

“How do you make purple?”

“Blue and red.”

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Better,” Mikey sighed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. How about we go to Dallon’s little library? I saw a book you might like.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s called ‘James and the Giant Peach’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	3. Of Emotions and Mental Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visits are paid, emotional breakdowns are had, smol beans are crushing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

“We’re here to see Spencer Smith?”

“Down that hall on the right; room 45.”

Dallon thanked the nurse with a nod and ushered Pete and Brendon down the hallway. They stopped outside the door. Brendon looked like he might cry, and Pete took his hand.

“I’ll go in first,” Dallon said, and Pete nodded. Dallon pushed the door open and slipped inside. He gave Spencer a small wave as he sat in the chair by the bed.

“Hey, Spence.”

“Hi, Dallon,” Spencer mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I must’ve messed up somehow…”

“You didn’t mess up! It’s not your fault I forgot to take my meds and stuff and got all suicidal. I’m the inconvenience.”

“You’re not an inconvenience! I love you dearly and it hurts me that you think you’re an inconvenience to me.”

“Exactly! If I died, you wouldn’t be hurt over me thinking I’m an inconvenience.”

The door swung open and Brendon and Pete appeared, looking quite upset.

“Spence, you-”

“Dude, your logic is so flawed,” Pete announced, interrupting Brendon. “You’re forgetting the fact that Dallon and the rest of us would be a billion times more saddened by your death. It’s upsetting that you think you’re an inconvenience, but not nearly as upsetting if you were to commit suicide. Dallon would cry for weeks.”

“Weekes. Haha, good one,” Brendon muttered, and Pete glared at him. Spencer snorted. Dallon looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or dissolve in tears.

“You’d really cry?” Spencer asked Dallon.

“Are you kidding me? I would lose it. Probably in front of everyone.”

“Everyone else would lose it too, though. You wouldn’t be alone, Dal,” Brendon offered.

“True,” Pete put in. “I really don’t want to think about if that happened.”

“Can I ask a question?”

Dallon nodded.

“How did I get here?”

“An ambulance.”

“Well, obviously. But why am I alive? I planned it out so I’d be dead before anyone woke up.”  
Dallon, Pete, and Brendon shared a quick glance.

“What?” Spencer pressed.

“Well…” Brendon bit his lip. “Someone got up to use the bathroom and found you.”

Pete fidgeted uncomfortably.

“You guys are acting weird… What happened? Seriously.”

“Um… Mikey found you, Spence. It just… startled him a bit,” Dallon said carefully.

Brendon opened his mouth and then clamped it shut.

“Crap. Crap. He’s young. Did I scar him for life? I bet he’s fucked up now ‘cause of me!” Spencer began to cry. “I wish this never happened. Why didn’t I think this through? Of course he found me. It’s my bad luck.”

“He’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay…” Dallon rubbed Spencer’s arm, steering clear of the IV lines.

“It's not! Mikey's not okay!”

“Spence, it happened. You can't beat yourself up over something that's in the past,” Pete said firmly.

“But I fucked up. I fucked up bad,” Spencer choked. “I can't just forgive myself.”

Brendon laced his fingers between Spencer’s and squeezed his hand gently. Spencer tried to swallow a sob, but it escaped anyway.

“Shhh,” Dallon whispered, wiping Spencer’s tears away and kissing the boy’s forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“I wanna see Mikey,” Spencer mumbled after a few minutes.

“Huh?” Dallon looked slightly surprised.

“I want to see Mikey. Y’know… to apologize and stuff.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but alright. Tomorrow?”

Spencer nodded, sniffling a bit.

“I’ll bring him if he agrees,” Dallon said. “It might be good for him.”

The door swung open, and a nurse poked her head in the room.

“Visiting hours are over.”

Dallon nodded. “Boys, wait for me by the front desk. I’ll be right out.”

Pete took Brendon’s elbow and led him from the room. Dallon reached out and placed his hand on   
Spencer’s.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I feel like I’ve failed you.”

“It’s not your fault, I told you that. I forgot about my meds; I fucked up. It won’t happen again.”

“I love you so much, Spence. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Dal,” Spencer sniffled. The door opened again.

“Sir, you time is up.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m leaving.” Dallon stood up, kissed Spencer on the top of the head, and headed down the hall to where Pete and Brendon were waiting.

 

\-----

 

“Tyler, why do you look so tired?” Mikey asked, looking up at the older boy. They were in the library, curled up on a small couch.

“Not much sleep,” Tyler shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“How much sleep did you get?”

“Um… I’m not sure.”

“Did you sleep when I was asleep?”

Tyler fidgeted his hands a bit. “Maybe?”

“Did you sleep at all?” Mikey looked horrified.

“It’s not important, Mikes. You’re important.”

“Tyler! Sleep is really important! We’re gonna go and take a nap right now.”

Tyler began to protest, but Mikey was already pulling him up and dragging him upstairs. For a small boy, he was surprisingly strong. Or maybe Tyler was just exhausted. He barely remembered getting into bed and dozing off with Mikey cuddled up beside him.

 

\-----

 

It was nearly dinnertime by the time Dallon, Brendon, and Pete got home. Traffic had been painfully slow, but none of them complained, not once. They were all too lost in their thoughts. Brendon went straight to his room when they arrived, not even pausing to say hello to his boyfriend. Pete headed into the kitchen to help with dinner to keep himself busy. Dallon greeted all the boys and updated them on how Spencer was doing, then went upstairs to check on Mikey. He found the boy curled in Tyler’s arms, the two of them sleeping peacefully. He tiptoed out of the room, not wanting to disturb them. He’d check in on them later. 

“Mr- I mean, Dallon?”

Dallon turned around and saw Gerard at the top of the stairs.

“What’s up, Gerard?”

“I don’t… I’m not f-feeling that good.”

“Do you have a stomachache? What’s wrong?”

“N-no, not like that… I’m not feeling good…” Gerard tapped his head. “Up h-here.”

“Why don’t you come down to my office and we can talk about it?”

Gerard nodded. Dallon walked over and rested a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, leading him downstairs and into the office. Dallon closed the door behind them and sat in his desk chair, gesturing for Gerard to take   
a seat on the small couch.

“What’s going on?”

“Um… Y’know how you… you made me promise to… to stay s-safe?”

Dallon nodded.

“I can’t… I’m h-having trouble…” Gerard trailed off, seemingly unable to say more.

“Are you having trouble staying safe?”

Gerard nodded, sniffling and looking away.

“If you feel like you can’t keep yourself safe, I’m afraid I’ll have to section you. Do you know what that means?”

Gerard shook his head.

“It means I’m going to have to take you to the hospital because you’re a danger to yourself. I don’t want to   
do that, but if you can’t keep your promise then I’m afraid I don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Gerard whispered.

“Would it help if one of the boys sticks around with you? Will that make it easier to stay safe?”

“Yeah,” Gerard said in a tiny voice. “I think that would be good.”

“Do you promise to stay safe, then?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you. I’m so proud of you, Gerard. I’m proud of you for coming to me for help. You did good.”

“Th-thanks, Dallon.”

“Of course. I’ll always be here, okay? Now let’s go find you someone to stick around with.”

“Can… can it be Frank?”

“Sure! Let’s go find Frank.”

 

\---

 

“Hi Gee, hi Dallon!”

“Hi, Frank,” Dallon returned Frank’s greeting. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Frank nodded curiously.

“Gerard here is having some trouble because of what’s been going on. Can you stay with him?”

“Okay,” Frank affirmed, stepping forward and taking Gerard’s hand. “I’ll keep him safe. I promise.”

“Thank you, Frank,” Dallon said. “I knew I could count on you.”

Dallon headed out to see if Mikey and Tyler were awake, and Frank led Gerard over to the living room couch. 

“Wanna watch cartoons?”

Gerard nodded. He sat down next to Frank so their thighs were touching and tentatively rested his head on Frank’s shoulder. Frank wrapped an arm around Gerard protectively.

“Frank?” 

“Yeah?”

“Remember when you asked if you could kiss me and I said maybe sometime soon?”

“Yeah.”

“You c-can kiss me now, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Frank said. He placed his hand on Gerard’s cheek and leaned in tentatively. When their lips first touched, Gerard inhaled sharply, but he soon relaxed into the kiss.

“Aww!” someone squealed, and the boys jumped apart. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

It was Patrick.

“You two make a really cute couple,” he said with a grin. “I’d suggest kissing someplace slightly more private, though. If Brendon sees you, neither of you will ever hear the end of it.”

“Okay,” Frank said, his cheeks pink. Patrick disappeared into the hallway, and Frank looked over at Gerard.

“That was nice,” Gerard whispered.

“Do you want to do it again?”

Gerard nodded, and Frank grabbed his hand and led him upstairs. 

 

\-----

 

Mikey heard footsteps on the stairs and wiggled a bit in Tyler’s arms so he could see the doorway. He expected Dallon or maybe Josh, but instead Gerard and Frank flitted through his line of sight, hand in hand. He only caught a glimpse of them, but both of their faces were suspiciously flushed. Mikey might be young, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. He could read his brother like a children’s book, yet it didn’t take that skill to see that he liked Frank and Frank liked him. It was only a matter of time, Mikey had decided. 

He just hoped he wouldn’t lose his brother, his best friend. The very thought made him tear up and cuddle closer to Tyler, who was still fast asleep. He covered his mouth just to make sure no sobs could escape. He couldn’t lose his brother to Frank. Deep breaths, he told himself. That’s what Tyler says. He tensed his muscles to prevent himself from trembling. 

“Hey Mikey, are you awake?” someone whispered from the doorway. It was Dallon. Mikey must not’ve heard him coming up the stairs. He looked at Mikey carefully and hurried over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“C’mere,” Dallon whispered, pulling Mikey close. Mikey’s hand stayed clamped over his own mouth; he didn’t trust himself not to scream or cry.

“It’s okay. Can you take deep breaths for me?”

Mikey nodded slightly. He didn’t realize he was hyperventilating until Dallon told him to breathe.

“You can cry if you need to, Mikey. It’s not good to bottle things up…”

Mikey tilted his head towards Tyler. Dallon understood.

“Don’t worry about waking him up. He won’t mind.”

Mikey looked a bit skeptical, but Dallon persuaded him to uncover his mouth. His breath hitched, and   
Dallon wrapped him in a tight hug. He rubbed Mikey’s back as the boy cried into his chest.

“I d-don’t want t-to lose G-Gee,” Mikey stuttered almost inaudibly.

“Lose him how?” Dallon prompted, his voice gentle.

“F-Frank,” Mikey choked. “He l-likes F-Frank and I d-d-don’t want him to l-leave me!”

“He won’t leave you,” Tyler said, and Dallon and Mikey jumped.

“I’m s-sorry I w-woke you up…”

“No, you didn’t,” Tyler soothed. “Don’t worry about that. Anyway, Mikes. Gerard isn’t going to leave you because he likes Frank.”

“W-why not?”

“Because he loves you very much,” Dallon put in firmly. “He would never abandon you. You’re his brother.”

“Then h-how come…” Mikey’s sentence dissolved into sobs, and he fought for a breath before trying again. “H-how come he’s n-not here? I n-need him!”

“You know how Gee is, Mikey,” Tyler said in a low voice. “He probably thinks you’re better off without him or something ridiculous like that.”

Mikey just cried harder. 

“I think you should talk to him, Mikey,” Dallon said. “But first you should get some rest.”

Tyler pulled back the blanket and Mikey curled up beside him, letting Tyler hold him and sing him to sleep.

 

\---

 

“Frank,” Gerard whispered, already feeling guilty about waking the other boy. “F-Frank?”

“Sup, Gee?” Frank said sleepily. 

“I don’t feel good…”

Frank sat up.

“Where does it hurt? Should I get Dallon?”

Gerard pointed to his head.

“Oh… Do you want to talk about it?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Gerard breathed, and Frank shook his head. “I’m afraid that Mikey won’t need me anymore. He has Tyler and Dallon. But I need him, Frank. I do.”

Frank frowned.

“I think… he needs you more than you think he does,” the boy said wisely. “He’s really prob’ly thinking the same thing as you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard seemed to think about this for a little while.

“Did that help?” Frank asked tentatively. Gerard nodded.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I feel a bit better.”

“Better ‘nough to sleep?”

“I think so.”

“A’right. Wake me up if you’re not good, okay?”

“Okay.”

“G’night, Gee.”

“Good night, Frank.”

Frank leaned forward and pressed a careful kiss to Gerard’s cheek. Gerard blushed and smiled just a teeny tiny bit as he closed his eyes and began to drift into the beginnings of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	4. Amends and Promises Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Mikey talk. Frank's a good lil bean who wants to learn guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Tyler awoke early, but stayed put with his arms around Mikey so as not to disturb the boy. Mikey had only woken up twice since they’d gone to bed, and Tyler was proud. The kid was already doing better than the past couple nights. After twenty minutes of Tyler laying there, Josh popped his head in the doorway.

“Do you need anything?” he whispered.

“Water, please,” Tyler mouthed. Josh nodded and disappeared for a few minutes, then entered the room with water in hand.

“Thanks,” Tyler mumbled around a sip of liquid. Josh kissed his forehead in reply.

“Anything else?”

“Can you check if Gee’s awake? And bring him here if he is?”

Josh nodded and tiptoed out of the room. He returned quickly with Gerard behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked nervously.

“You and Mikey need to talk. I’m gonna wake him up, come and sit.”

Gerard sat down as Tyler gently shook Mikey’s shoulder.

“Gee’s here, Mikes. Time to talk, okay?”

Mikey took one look at his brother and burst into tears.

“D-don’t leave me!” he sobbed. “I need you!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gerard murmured, trying to stay calm. “I just thought you might be better off with other people. I don’t think I’m good enough for you, Mikes.”

“No!” Mikey choked. “I found Sp-Spencer…” his throat closed up and his eyes burned. 

“Shh, Mikes. Breathe. You gotta breathe,” Tyler said softly. Mikey collapsed against Tyler and Gerard looked horrified at the state his brother was in. After a few minutes, Tyler managed to calm Mikey down enough for him to continue.

“I f-found Spencer and… and you weren’t th-there for me and I th-thought I wasn’t g-g-good enough for you and you would l-leave me!”

Gerard was crying as well at that point. He held out his arms and Mikey seemed to crumple into the embrace.

“I’m never gonna leave you, Mikes. I just thought you didn’t need me.”

“I n-need you, Gee.”

“I need you too, Mikes. I missed you. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

Tyler watched as the brothers held each other like they were the only things stopping each other from falling off the earth. He nodded, satisfied. 

“Are you guys okay if I go?” 

Gerard looked down at Mikey, who nodded. 

“Yeah,” Gerard said quietly. “Thank you, Tyler.”

Tyler ruffled Gerard’s hair in response, then headed out the door. He stopped by the kitchen to grab some crackers, then set out to look for Josh. He was halfway down the hall when he was stopped by a worried Frank.

“Have you seen Gee? I’ve looked everywhere…”

“He’s with Mikey,” Tyler said, and Frank nodded in understanding.

“Good.”

“Have you seen Josh?”

“Uh… Music room, maybe? He’s… spended? A lot of time in there.”

“Spent,” Tyler offered with a smile, and Frank nodded.

“Spent.” He paused. “C’n I come?”

“Sure,” Tyler said. “Do you play anything?”

“Nah, I never got a chance,” Frank shrugged. 

“Do you want to learn?”

“Learn what?”

“An instrument. What interests you?”

“Uhhh… guitar looks cool, I think.”

“Brendon knows guitar, Ryan knows guitar, Patrick knows guitar… How about you ask one of them?”

“What do you play?” Frank asked curiously.

“Piano, some bass, and I sing and rap.”

“Cool…” Frank’s eyes widened when they entered the music room. There was a spattering of different   
instruments, with everything from a drum set to guitars to a piano and even a trumpet. Josh was seated behind the drums, working hard. He drummed with his entire body, bouncing around and smashing with such force that Frank was surprised his drumsticks were still intact.

“Joshie!” Tyler screeched, catching his boyfriend’s attention. 

“Oh, hi Ty! What’s up? How’s Mikey?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s with Gerard.”

Josh nodded, shoving his drumsticks in his pocket and getting up to kiss Tyler. 

“Hey Frank,” he greeted the younger boy once he pulled away.

“Hi Josh. You drum really good.”

“Thanks, bud! Do you play?”

“I wanna learn guitar,” Frank grinned.

“Go get Patrick, he’s a great teacher!”

“Okay!” Frank scurried off, and Josh and Tyler watched him go.

“He’s a good kid,” Tyler said.

“He always was, he just needed time. Building trust and all that.”

Tyler nodded. “He seems to get along real well with Gerard.”

“Patrick told me he saw them kissing the other night,” Josh said, his eyes twinkling. Tyler smirked.

“Why am I not surprised…”

 

\-----

 

Mikey and Gerard were flipping through the latter’s sketchbook when Dallon entered the room.

“Hello boys. Can I sit down?”

Mikey nodded.

“I have a question for you, Mikey. You can 100% say no if you don’t want to, but Spencer wanted to see you. Would you like to visit him?”

Mikey twitched a bit, and Gerard wrapped a protective arm around him. He seemed to be lost in thought.

Gerard nudged him. “Mikes?”

“S-sorry. I… um… I’d kind of like that. I wanna see him.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard pressed worriedly. Mikey nodded.

“When would you like to go?” Dallon asked.

“Can I go… like… today? Like… now?”

“If you want to,” Dallon said with an encouraging smile. Mikey slowly inclined his head. He grabbed his teddy bear for moral support even though he was a bit old for it and followed Dallon to the front door. Gerard watched anxiously as Mikey tied his shoes and gave him a tight hug.

“I’ll be fine, Gee,” Mikey said, managing a smile.

“Alright,” Gerard whispered. Frank appeared by his side and took his hand as Mikey and Dallon got in the car.

“He’ll be okay, I promise.” Frank paused. “I learned some guitar; I can show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	5. Things Are Looking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visits are paid, music is made. Things are lookin' good... for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my lovely lil emo bean. You know who you are, happy birthday!! xo <3
> 
> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Mikey trembled a bit as he walked down the hall toward Spencer’s room, his teddy bear tucked under one arm and the other hand clutching Dallon’s.

“Are you ready?”

Mikey nodded, and Dallon led him into the room. 

“Hi Dallon. And… ohmigod Mikey…”

Mikey’s eyes were wide as he studied the hospital bed and the monitors Spencer was attached to.

Spencer sat up, wincing when he accidentally tugged at the IV.

“Mikey… I’m-” he swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I’m so, so sorry… I’m sorry th-that you had to see that.” His eyes glistened and he looked up at the ceiling in attempt to will the tears away.

Mikey let go of Dallon’s hand and walked over to the bed. He looked down at the teddy bear in his hand and then extended his arm, offering it to Spencer.

“This’ll help,” Mikey whispered. “To make the sad go away.”

Spencer took the teddy bear, holding it carefully. He gave up on keeping back the tears.

“Thank you,” he choked. Mikey tentatively sat down at the edge of the bed and hugged him. 

“Life happens,” Mikey mumbled, sniffling a bit. 

“Life happens,” Spencer agreed. Dallon watched the two of them, his eyes misty. His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him from his trance.

 

Tyler- How’s Mikey? Gee’s worried.

 

Dallon- He’s doing well. He gave Spence his teddy bear.

 

Tyler- Gr8. I’ll tell Gee he’s okay.

 

\----

 

“OKAY BITCHES, TIME FOR A HOUSE MEETING!!!” Brendon screamed from the living room. Ryan, who was sitting beside him, looked like he might keel over at any second.

“My… my ears…”

“Sorry babe,” Brendon said, kissing him sweetly. “It was necessary.”

“I veto this meeting if it’s just gonna be us watching you two make out,” Pete announced as he, Josh, and Patrick entered the room.

“Not into voyeurism? Fine,” Brendon said, fake-offended. Ryan turned his signature shade of tomato-red.

“You’d think Ryan would stop getting embarrassed at some point…” Patrick shrugged. “I suppose not.”

“I think he does it because Brendon loves it so much!” Pete exclaimed.

“Now that’s a thought…” Josh mused. Ryan turned even redder.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for someone to be that color,” Tyler said as he entered the room with Gerard and Frank in the tow.

“Tyler’s right. Ryan can’t possibly turn that shade of red at will,” Patrick agreed.

“Anyway, why are we here?” Tyler asked.

“We’re writing a song, motherfuckers!”

“You have my interest,” Patrick said. “Elaborate.”

“We should write a song for Spencer,” Brendon said, taking on a suddenly serious air. “I think he’d like that.”

“All in favor say aye,” Pete said, and there was a chorus of ayes. “All opposed say nay.” Silence.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Brendon announced. “Josh, you’re in charge of drums. Pete, you’ll do bass and Dallon can help. Ryan, Frank, and Patrick, you three are on guitars. Tyler and Gerard and I will work on lyrics. Sound good?”

The group nodded excitedly. 

“Great. Ready, set, gopher it!”

Everyone scattered except for Brendon, who was cackling over his pun. “Geddit? Geddit? Gopher it? Go for it?”

“How is that even relevant?” Tyler asked with a sigh.

“Don’t be a killjoy, man,” Brendon said, still wheezing. Gerard perked up a bit.

“What’s up?” Tyler asked.

“Killjoy… reminds me of a concept I thought of,” Gerard mumbled. “Nevermind.”

“No, tell us,” Tyler prodded. “It sounds cool.”

“Well… um… I thought of this concept for an album… and the characters are called killjoys… and they…” Tyler and Brendon listened as Gerard elaborated and were amazed by how sharp and brilliant he was. They’d never seen this creative spark before, he always hid it behind his shyness. Never judge a book by its cover, they agreed silently. You never know what the pages yield.

 

\-----

 

Mikey and Spencer were curled up on the hospital bed, observing how the ceiling was like the inverse of the sky and look, there was the big dipper and Orion and the little dipper… Dallon watched them with a small smile on his face. Everything would be okay. This was just a bump in the road.

The door swung open and a blond nurse entered, looking from Dallon to the boys and back.

“Are you Dallon Weekes?”

“Yes ma’am,” Dallon replied.

“I have updates and a potential release date for you.”

“Excellent, let’s step outside. Boys, I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nodded, and Dallon followed the nurse out the door.

“He’s doing fairly well,” the nurse began. “His blood pressure is still too low to be released, but he should be ready in three days at most. We just want to air on the side of caution. Does he see a counselor regularly?”

“He does. All my boys do,” Dallon gave her a businesslike smile that was more like half a grimace. “He does have a past of abuse and trauma, as do most of the rest, unfortunately.”

“Are they adopted?”

“Some. The rest are fostered. I just want to give them the lives they deserve.”

“Is the boy you brought his brother?”

“Not biologically. Mikey was the one who found him… before he was brought here.”

“Ah,” the nurse nodded. “I’m glad he could visit. Have a good day, sir.”

“You as well,” Dallon said warmly, reentering the room. Mikey was snuggled up beside  
Spencer, asleep. Spencer raised a finger to his lips and Dallon nodded. 

“Only three more days,” Dallon mouthed, holding up three fingers. “Until you come home.”

Spencer’s face broke into a grin. He gave Dallon a thumbs up and Dallon smiled back widely. This was the Spencer he knew.

 

\----

 

A couple hours later, Tyler, Brendon, and Gerard had worked their asses off and successfully written lyrics for their song. They had taken their ideas and with the help of the piano, combined everything into a song they were proud of. 

“Great! Now all the other fuckers can stop messing around and get to work,” Brendon had announced. Tyler headed off to make copies of the lyrics and melody and passed them out to each group. Josh had been driving the other groups insane with loud drumming, so they’d fled the music room for quieter locations. Pete was holed up in the library with his bass, and the guitarists were gathered in Patrick’s room.

“This is great!” Ryan said, scanning the lyrics. “Let’s get to it.”

Frank bounced excitedly, gripping the guitar he was borrowing from Patrick. “Awesome!”

Tyler grinned and headed back to the library.  
“Can I help you out with the bassline?” he asked Pete. 

“You play bass?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Tyler shrugged. “I like piano best, but bass is fun.”

“Awesome, dude. Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	6. Of Ice Cream and Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbyes, ice cream, and serious discussions. Bonus humor: “O knowledgeable one is excited to hear what you’ve got!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Dallon was staring off into space when he heard the door open. He snapped to attention, rubbing his eyes.

“Sir, visiting hours are now over. I’m afraid you two will have to say goodbye,” a tall nurse said.

“Alright, thanks for letting me know.” Dallon stood up and tapped Spencer’s shoulder to wake him. 

“Spence, looks like we have to go.”

“Okay,” Spencer whispered hoarsely. “Thanks for bringing Mikey.”

“Of course. We’ll visit again soon. I love you, Spence. Don’t forget that.”

“Love you. Thanks, Dal.”

Dallon kissed Spencer’s head, then scooped Mikey into his arms and carried the still-sleeping boy out to the car. They were about halfway home when Mikey awoke, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Wha…”

“You fell asleep, so I carried you out to the car. We’ll be home in ten or fifteen minutes, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

“You can go back to sleep.”

“I’m not too tired anymore,” Mikey said, stretching his arms over his head and hitting the roof of the car. Dallon considered this.

“Do you like ice cream?”

“Um… I don’t know? Gee said I ate some when I was little, but I don’t remember…”

“My goodness. In that case, we’re going out for ice cream.”

“Okay,” Mikey sat up a bit straighter, looking out the window as Dallon pulled into a parking lot. Mikey shivered as he stepped out into the cool night air, and Dallon draped his jacket across the boy’s shoulders.

“But aren’t you cold?”

“No, I’m okay,” Dallon said with a smile as they entered the ice cream shop. “What flavor would you like?”

“I like to eat chocolate… but I also like strawberries,” Mikey frowned.

“How about this, I get chocolate and you get the strawberry, and we can share.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” Dallon stepped forward to get and pay for the ice cream, and Mikey stuck to his side like a burr. They sat down and Dallon watched as Mikey took his first bite.

“C-cold!!”

Dallon chucked. “It is called ice cream, after all.”

“It’s good,” Mikey said, taking another bite of the strawberry. 

“Would you like to try chocolate?”

Mikey nodded, and Dallon pushed the cup over so Mikey could have some.

“Mm, it’s also good… Can I take some home for Gee?”

“I’m afraid it’ll melt by the time we get back, but how about we stop by the grocery store and buy a few tubs so everyone can have some?”

“Cool,” Mikey nodded, smiling a bit. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

“Anytime, Mikey.” They went back to eating their ice cream, then threw away the empty cups and drove a mile down the road to the grocery store. They picked up some ice cream (and Red Bull for Tyler, he was running low) and finally headed back home.

“We have ice cream!” Dallon called as they entered the house. There was an assortment of squeals and whoops and everybody rushed to the dining room in attempt to get first dibs. Pete still had his bass hanging around his neck, and the others had to duck so they wouldn’t get hit in the head. 

“Don’t you want some, Mikes?” Frank asked, excitedly taking the bowl Dallon passed him.

“I had some already,” the boy said with a tiny smile. “It was tasty.”

“Awesome,” Frank said, nodding. “I love ice cream.”

“Pete, go put your bass away! You’re going to behead someone,” Dallon scolded lightly. Pete grinned, grabbing a bowl of ice cream and then hurrying off to the music room. When he returned, Brendon clapped his hands loudly to shut everyone up.

“Shall we tell Daddy Dal what we’re working on?”

“Yeah!” Frank squealed. “We’re writing a SONG!!!”

Brendon sighed. “Yes, Frank. Thank you. We’re writing and performing a song for Spence, so we wanted to know when he’s coming home and if you’ll help us, o knowledgeable one.”

“O knowledgeable one is excited to hear what you’ve got!” Dallon exclaimed. “Of course I’ll help. If all goes well, he’ll be home in three days.”

“Fabulous,” Ryan said. “We got this!”

“Go team!” Pete shouted, and Patrick shushed him. “What?”

“You’re loud…” Patrick sighed.

“Alright, boys. Let’s get ready for bed; we can work on the song after group tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Sick,” Josh replied, and everyone else nodded. 

“I’ll do dishes,” Pete offered, and Gerard stepped forward as well. 

“Great, thank you both. Everyone else, upstairs!” Dallon directed. “Actually Gerard, could I speak to   
you for a moment?”

Gerard’s eyes widened and his breath caught.

“It’s not bad, I promise,” Dallon reassured.

“Okay,” Gerard whispered. Once everyone had cleared out and Pete was in the kitchen, Dallon sat   
down and motioned for Gerard to do the same.

“How are you?”

“I’m… I’m alright. Just…”

“Just what?” Dallon prodded after a few moments passed.

“Um… I…”

“Would it be easier if we talked in my office? I can turn on the sound machine so nobody hears   
anything.”

“Y-yeah.”

Dallon got up and poked his head into the kitchen. 

“Pete, I’m afraid I need to borrow your dishes helper. Do you want me to send someone else in?”

“I’m almost done, thanks,” Pete replied.

“Great,” Dallon gave him a thumbs-up and then led Gerard to his office. He turned on the white noise machine and closed the door.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I… I…”

“Would it be better if I was looking away? Or if you had something to keep your hands busy?”  
Gerard nodded and glanced at Dallon’s mug of colored pencils.

“Good idea, let’s draw. Here’s paper, take your pick of pencils…” Dallon passed some paper to Gerard and took a sheet for himself. 

“I feel stupid.”

“How come?”

“I’m not happy. I should be happy. Why am I not happy?” Gerard’s eyes watered, and he stared down at his paper. “Everything’s fine, but I’m still sad!”

“It’s okay to be sad,” Dallon said gently. “You’ve been through a lot, Gerard. You haven’t been here very long. It’s impossible to just be -bam- fine after fourteen years of fear. It takes time to recover, and even then, people have bad days. Ask any of the other boys here.”

“I just feel stuck. I… I’m so tired and it pulls me down and sometimes I just feel like giving up.”

“It sounds like you’re depressed,” said Dallon slowly. “Would you agree?”

Gerard nodded, glancing up from his drawing. “I just hate it. I want to be okay. I feel like I won’t ever be okay.”

“Are you interested in taking medication for it?”

“Will that help?”

“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance it would help. Depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain, and the medication helps that. It could help you be more stable.”

“I think… I think that might be good.”

“I can do that for you. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Gerard shook his head.

“Okay, last thing. Can you promise me to stay safe?”

“I promise.”

“And you’ll come to me if that changes?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. How about you go get ready for bed? Patrick’s probably done with the dishes by now.”

“Thank you, Dallon.”

“Of course.”

Gerard headed up the stairs, and Dallon looked at the drawing he left behind in amazement. It showed him and all the boys squished on the couch, happy expressions on their faces. Dallon framed it carefully and hung it above his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	7. Group Shenanigans and Good Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy lil chapter... aka the calm before the Storm 2.0? Who knows...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

“I had this great dream last night!” Brendon announced. “I had a glass of milk and then Ryan took out-”

“And I’m going to stop you right there,” Patrick said hastily, covering Mikey’s ears. “Let’s not forget about the children.”

“Aww…” Brendon pouted. “Fine.”

Ryan sighed in relief; he looked the color of a fire hydrant. He stood up and took his plate to the kitchen, and Tyler, Frank, Mikey, and Pete followed in suit.

“Okay, dish duty this morning is Patrick and Sp… are there any volunteers to substitute for Spence?”   
Dallon asked. Gerard raised his hand.

“You don’t have to help all the time,” Dallon told him, but Gerard shook his head.

“I like dishes.”

“To each their own,” Josh shrugged. “Are you sure, though? I can do it…”

“Really, I’ll do it,” Gerard said, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

“Hi, Gee!” Patrick exclaimed, waving while holding a partially dirty plate.

“Hi.”

They worked in silence a few minutes, Patrick whistling as he scrubbed the dishes. 

“Um… Patrick?”

“What’s up?”

“How… how are you so happy?”

Patrick paused, looking thoughtful.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t happy for a long time. It just kinda snuck up on me. Dallon helped, the other boys helped, and then Pete came along… All good things come with time, I think. You just have to live your life. If you’re trying to search for happiness, it won’t come. You just have to keep pushing and eventually you’ll be happier but you’ll have no idea where it came from. Keep trying, because things really do get better. I promise.”

Gerard nodded, and Patrick gave him a knowing smile.

“You can do it. If things get bad, you can always drop by my room.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem!”

 

\---

 

“Group time!” Dallon called once the dishes were done. The boys filed into the living room and plopped onto various chairs or the couch. “Who wants to share first?”

Frank raised his hand.

“Yes, Frank?”

“Patrick taught me some guitar! It’s really fun and I like it a lot. It makes me calm.”

“That’s great! I’m glad you like it!” Dallon smiled. “If you decide to stick with it… who knows what you’ll get for your birthday…”

Frank connected the dots in his head, then bounced in his seat excitedly, jostling Gerard who was beside him.

“Oh sorry!” he said, kissing Gerard’s cheek. Gerard seemed to be trying very hard not to smile.

“Anyone else?” Dallon said, suppressing a laugh.

“Spencer’s gonna be okay and I’m happy about that,” Mikey offered.

“Me too,” Brendon said. “I miss him.”

“I think Tyler and I have a really great bassline for his song,” Pete put in. Tyler nodded happily.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Dallon grinned.

“I’m kinda anxious about the drum part,” Josh said. “‘Cause y’know… Spence drums and I want him   
to like it…”

“He’s gonna love it, Joshie,” Tyler said, wrapping an arm around him.

“I can totally help,” Brendon offered. “I love drums.”

Josh nodded. “That’d be good, thanks.”

“Excellent,” Dallon said. “Anyone else?”

“I just wanted to say that Bren, Tyler, and Gerard did a great job with the lyrics,” Patrick said.

“Aw, thanks Patty!!” Brendon exclaimed. Patrick winced at the nickname. 

“Ah, speaking of Gerard!” Dallon started, and Gerard looked horrifyingly alarmed. “Is it alright if I show everyone your drawing?”

Gerard nodded and hid his head in Mikey’s shoulder. Dallon went and grabbed it from his office and passed it around the circle.

“This is fucking AMAZING!!” Brendon squealed. 

“WOAH,” Pete said. “DUDE.”

“Holy shit,” Ryan gaped. “You drew us all perfectly. How…?”

“This is sick as frick!” Tyler added.

“I have no words…” Patrick said. Josh said nothing, he literally had no words.

“He’s talented, right?!” Frank grinned. 

“Right!” Mikey said. Gerard was still hiding, blushing profusely.

“You got skills, man,” Pete told him.

“Alright, I believe he might faint dead away if we compliment him more… Perhaps we should move on,” Dallon suggested.

“Probably,” Brendon agreed. “He’s redder that Ryan gets, and I didn’t think that was even possible.”

“Me neither,” Patrick said conversationally.

“Would anyone else like to share?” Dallon asked when he returned from putting the drawing back in his office. Nobody replied. “Alright, group dismissed! Shall we work on the song?”

“Yeah!” Brendon shouted, leading the stampede to the music room. Mikey hung back and walked with Dallon. He reached up and tugged the tall man’s sleeve.

“What’s up, Mikes?”

“I don’t play any instruments…”

“Would you like to learn one?”

Mikey nodded hopefully.

“How about bass? It’s pretty simple.”

“Yeah, I’d like to try that.”

When they entered the music room, Tyler and Pete beckoned them over to space dubbed the ‘bass corner’. It held two of Dallon’s basses and Pete’s one. 

“Mikes, you can sit down. I’ll be right back,” Dallon said, hurrying off to some unknown destination. He returned within a few minutes, carrying an uncharacteristically small bass.

“I played this until I was fifteen or so. It hasn’t been used in quite a while, but it’s in decent condition.” Dallon handed it to Mikey with a grin.

“Thank you,” Mikey breathed, looking at the instrument in awe. 

“Of course. Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	8. Of Bad News and Spongebob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funny how things get worse just when you think it's gonna be okay. Luckily, we have Batman and Spongebob to keep us going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Everyone worked on their various parts of the song for a good amount of the day, with a pizza/swimming/ice cream break for lunch and a game of kickball in the afternoon. (Josh carried the win, poor little Mikey tripped over the ball a couple times.) 

Most of the boys were now gathered around the tv to watch the latest Batman movie, minus Mikey and Brendon. They’d gone with Dallon to see Spencer. The drive seemed to inch by slowly, and Brendon’s leg was bouncing at the speed of light by the time they pulled into the parking lot. Sitting still wasn’t a strong suit for him in the slightest. Mikey seemed somewhat amused by this, mostly at the fact that Brendon didn’t even realize his leg was moving. 

Brendon nearly hurled himself out of the car when it stopped. They hurried excitedly into the hospital (a rare sight) and waited as Dallon went to the desk to ask permission to see Spencer. They were confused as the nurse frowned, shaking her head as she told Dallon something that seemed grim. His face fell faster than a racehorse on the track. He nodded, lips pressed together as he listened to the nurse. Mikey and Brendon saw him thank her, then walk back over with a hollow look in his eyes.

“I’m afraid we’re going home, boys.”

“Is he… is he…” Mikey looked like he might cry.

“He’s not dead, no… It’s just…” Dallon exhaled, shaking his head. “We just can’t see him. I’ll explain later.”

He took Mikey’s hand in one of his and wrapped his other arm around Brendon.

“Let’s go,” he said heavily. “No point in standing around.”

 

\----

 

Brendon sat in the back with Mikey. After a few minutes in the car, the younger boy’s eyes grew watery and he looked quite distraught. 

“I want him to be okay,” Mikey sniffed, covering his face with his hands. Brendon pulled him as close as the seat belt would allow.

“Me too,” Brendon agreed. Mikey’s shoulders shook and Brendon tried his best to comfort him.

“Shh, Mikes. He’ll be okay.” Brendon reached over and undid Mikey’s seat belt, pulling the boy into his lap. “Deep breaths…”

Mikey choked on air but did his best to breathe slowly.

“Remember, when he gets home we’ll play him the song and it’ll be amazing. Can you imagine the expression on his face?”

“Really h-happy. He’d be happy.”

“Right. It’s hard to know that something happened so we can’t see him, but he’s most certainly alive and we’ll see him soon. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey nodded. 

They sat in silence the rest of the car ride. Once they stepped out of the car, Brendon pulled Dallon into a hug.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Dallon nodded. “I hate bringing bad news.”

“The others have to find out somehow.”

“Right. Better tell them now.” Dallon took Mikey’s hand as they walked up the path to the door. They could hear the Batman movie playing as they entered the house and took of their shoes. Patrick appeared in the living room doorway, poking his head into the main hall.

“Oh, hi! I thought I heard someone come it. Short visit, huh? How’s…” he trailed off at Dallon’s somber expression.

“Can you tell them to pause the movie?” Dallon asked quietly. Patrick nodded, disappearing back into the living room. The movie was paused, and someone turned on the lights as Dallon, Brendon, and Mikey entered.

“We were just getting to the good-” Frank cut himself off, realizing something was very apparently wrong. “Sorry, m’bad.”

“Is Spence okay?” Josh asked, his face pale. Dallon pursed his lips.

“He was doing well until late this morning. They were even going to release him tomorrow instead of in two days. But a new nurse came in, and she must’ve looked like someone from his past because he panicked. They had to drug him to restrain him, and he still wasn’t fully recovered from the blood loss, so the dosage was too strong and…” Dallon took a deep breath, shaking his head. “He almost… Anyway, he’ll be okay. He just has to stay three more days starting tomorrow.”

“So you couldn’t see him?” Pete asked. Dallon shook his head. 

“I’m going first thing tomorrow. Boys, I’m so sorry… I really hate spoiling things with bad news.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gerard said quietly. Everybody nodded.

“Life happens,” Mikey added, repeating what he told Spencer during his first visit.

“That’s right. You boys can go back to your movie, my apologies for interrupting,” said Dallon. Someone unpaused the movie and Dallon turned off the lights as he left the room. Mikey quietly followed him to his office, and Dallon was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice until he reached to grab some paperwork.

“Oh, hello! I hope you haven’t been standing long…”

Mikey shook his head to make Dallon feel better.

“Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

Mikey shook his head again.

“Would you like to hang out with me in here?”

“Yes, please,” Mikey mumbled.

“Come in and sit down. Would you like to color? I have a coloring book in here somewhere…” Dallon   
dug through a stack of papers, unearthing an old coloring book. He handed it to Mikey, along with the same colored pencils Gerard had used the other day.

“Go for it,” Dallon said. “I’ll just be doing paperwork and making phone calls. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey nodded. He curled up in a worn armchair, starting to color in an intricate flower. Time seemed to fly by, and as it got later his eyes began to droop. Dallon finished reading some important papers around 9:45, and when he looked over to Mikey to check on him, the boy was asleep. Dallon stood up, grabbing a blanket and spreading it over him for temporary warmth. He then headed to the living room, where the rest of the boys were now watching Spongebob. 

“Time to get ready for bed,” he announced, to the boys’ annoyance.

“But Dalllllll,” Brendon complained. “Spongebob’s hilarious. God knows we need a fucking laugh.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that. Ten more minutes.” 

“Thanks, Dallon,” Pete grinned. Dallon smiled back and headed for the door. Gerard whispered something urgently to Tyler.

“Wait, Mikey’s with you, right?” Tyler asked.

“Yep, he’s been hanging out in the office. He actually fell asleep, so I’m going to carry him on up to bed.”

“Good. Just checking,” Tyler said, giving Gerard a reassuring look.

“Okay. Ten minutes, then bedtime,” Dallon reminded as he left the living room. He walked back to his office, scooping Mikey up and then carrying him to his and Gerard’s room. Mikey stirred as Dallon tucked him under the covers, but didn’t wake. Dallon then went to brush his teeth and put on pyjamas, and finally headed back to the living room.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he said, getting groans of annoyance in return.

“The episode’s almost over!” Frank begged. “Five more minutes!”

“Tyler, do puppy dog eyes!” Pete commanded. Tyler sighed, but looked at Dallon and put on his best begging face.

“Please?”

Dallon tried to look away so he wouldn’t be persuaded, but he caught a glimpse of Tyler’s face and crumbled.

“Alright, alright. Five minutes. But I’m going to sit right here to make sure nobody puts on another episode.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	9. The Shitshow 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get the tissues ready, this one's a doozy! The angst is real. I'm so sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

The first thing Spencer noticed was an incessant beeping. It slowly got louder as he focused in on it. He felt oddly sluggish, like he’d just slept for a week. After a few minutes, he forced one of his eyes open. The room was bright, almost too bright to be home… His other eye snapped open and he worked hard to focus them. 

The ceiling was made of those weird white tiles and he came to the realization that he definitely wasn’t in his bedroom. He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. That’s when he became aware of the straps holding him down. 

Fear hit him like a truck and he screamed, pulling at the restraints with all his might. He had to get away. He didn’t know where he was, but he had to run. Suddenly he heard a door open and a short lady with dark skin and graying hair appeared at his side.

“Let me go!” he shouted, tears streaking across his face as he thrashed blindly.

“Deep breaths, please try to stay calm. We’re here to help you,” the lady soothed, her eyes kind. 

“Where am I?” Spencer’s breaths were ragged. He tried to pull free one last time. “Help me!”

“You’re in the hospital, dear,” the lady told him. “You’ve been here a couple days.”

Spencer gave up, choking on the air he was rapidly forcing into his lungs. As the adrenaline started to subside, memories flooded back to him. 

“She was here…”

“Who?” the lady asked. Spencer presumed she was a nurse.

“A- a bad, bad…” Spencer burst into tears again. “Don’t let her in!”

“The person who scared you has no relation to you. She’s never met you before, but she won’t be one of your nurses. We assume that she looks like someone you know.”

Spencer exhaled. “She won’t come in?”

“No.”

“O-okay.”

The nurse gave him a look of sympathy. 

“You should try to rest,” she said. “It’s right around 3 am.”

“Don’t go,” he whimpered. She sat down, resting her hand on top of his.

“It’s going to be okay. Now close your eyes…”

 

\----

 

Dallon awoke with a jolt to Ryan shaking him and someone screaming down the hall.

“Josh’s having a flashback and he punched Brendon by accident and Bren’s bleeding and Josh is screaming and you gotta come quick!!” Ryan said urgently. Dallon jumped out of bed and ran down the hall, skidding into Josh’s room. Josh’s eyes were glazed over and he was breathing at a million miles a minute, twitching and screaming as if someone was beating him. Brendon and Tyler were watching in fear, half of Brendon’s face bruising and swelling with blood oozing from his nose.

“It’s not real, Josh,” Dallon said. His voice was strong but gentle at the same time. “You’re safe here. Nobody wants to hurt you.”

Josh turned to look at Dallon, but he didn’t seem to see him. He saw something else, something terrifying.

“It’s Dallon. I’m Dallon Weekes and I love you very much. Brendon’s here. Your boyfriend, Tyler’s here… You’re safe.”

Upon hearing Tyler’s name, Josh twitched and blinked hard. His eyes slowly refocused, looking at Dallon.

“It’s not real,” Dallon said softly. He held out his arms and Josh collapsed into them. His breaths were still rapid and he was shaking like a leaf. Dallon rubbed his back gently as he cradled him.   
“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Josh stayed still a few minutes, trying to relax. He finally turned his head and looked up at Tyler and Brendon. He gasped at the blood and bruise on Brendon’s face.

“D-did I…?”

“No,” Brendon said firmly. “I hit my head on the door.”

Josh didn’t seem to believe him but didn’t argue. He met Tyler’s eyes and outstretched out a shaky hand. Tyler rushed over and took it as he sat down. There was a faint noise from the hall and everyone looked up to see Mikey standing in the door, looking terrified. Dallon started to get up, but Brendon shook his head and crouched down in front of Mikey instead.

“What’s wrong? Bad dreams?”

Mikey shrugged, sniffling a bit. Brendon pulled him into a hug, then led him back to his room.   
Mikey’s covers were bunched up and half off his bed like he’d just gotten up, but Gerard’s were neat and he wasn’t there.

“Where’s your brother?” he asked Mikey.

“With Frank,” Mikey’s lip trembled. He looked at Brendon and burst into tears. “I miss him but I want him to be happy and I want Spencer to be back and I want Josh to be okay and I don’t want you to die!”

“Whoa there, I’m not going anywhere,” Brendon said, wrapping an arm around Mikey.

“B-but… blood!” Mikey gestured to Brendon’s face.

“Yeah, there’s blood. But that doesn’t mean I’m dying, I promise.”

“But Spencer!”

“Spencer lost a lot of blood. This is just a little bit,” Brendon reassured. “I’m fine.”

Mikey considered this. “O-okay,” he eventually sniffled. “I miss Gee. He used to be here all the time but then Frank came and I think Frank’s better than me ‘cause now Gee hangs out with him.”

“No no no, Mikey. Frank’s not better than you. You’re amazing. It’s just that Frank and Gee met more recently, so now they’re spending time together to get to know each other. Maybe you two should talk about it.”

“We did, but… but he’s still spending more time with Frank!” Mikey looked like he was being torn to shreds. He doubled over, covering his mouth to muffle the sobs. “I don’t wanna lose him. But I’m n-not good enough. I’m sad and I don’t like to be alone and I don’t wanna do this.”

Brendon didn’t know what to say. He pulled Mikey into his lap and held him tightly, rocking him back and forth.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he finally whispered.

“It’s not,” Mikey sobbed. “I’m broken.”

“We’re all broken, Mikey. Every single one of us. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be okay.” Brendon took a deep breath. “I know it seems like it’ll never get better. But you just gotta keep pushing. Keep keepin’ on. Things will be okay in the end, and if things aren’t okay, it’s not the end. Got it?”

Mikey nodded into Brendon’s shoulder. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t you apologize,” Brendon told him. “It happens to everyone.”

“Bren?” Ryan said, poking his head into the room. “There you are. I can stay with Mikey; Dallon wants to clean up your face.”

Brendon nodded. He kissed the top of Mikey’s head and transferred him to Ryan’s lap as his boyfriend sat down.

“Be right back.” He headed down the hall to the bathroom where Dallon was waiting with warm water and a washcloth.

“What a mess,” he said, shaking his head as Brendon hopped up to sit on the counter.

“Spencer’s in the hospital, Mikey’s not good, Josh’s not good, Gerard’s not good… yeah, I’d say a mess sums it up,” Brendon replied. “But Dal, Mikey’s really not good. He’s really torn up about Gee hanging out with Frank all the time; he says he’s not good enough and that he’s broken and he doesn’t wanna do it anymore.”

“Shoot,” was all Dallon said. “Okay. I’m gonna sit the brothers down tomorrow and- well, technically today. It’s four in the morning.”

“Mmhm. They need to talk.”

Dallon nodded. “Good news for you, your nose isn’t broken.”

“Fabulous,” Brendon said, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

“How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m alright,” Brendon gave Dallon a small smile. “Just keep keepin’ on. That’s what I told Mikey. So… practicing what I preach, I guess.”

“Good,” Dallon said. “Let me know if you’re not doing well, alright?”

“I will, I promise. I should probably get back to Mikey…”

“No, you go to bed. I’ll take care of Mikey,” Dallon said firmly. He tousled Brendon’s hair. “Off you go.”

Brendon hugged him, then went off to bed. Dallon checked on Josh one last time, who was asleep in Tyler’s arms. He then headed to Mikey and Gerard’s room. Mikey was crying into Ryan’s shirt, and Gerard was nowhere to be seen.

“I can take him,” Dallon told Ryan. Ryan nodded, letting Dallon pull Mikey into his arms and heading off to his room to go back to bed. He was stopped by Patrick, who worriedly asked if everything was okay.

“Not really,” Ryan sighed. “But… y’know.”

Patrick nodded despite not really knowing and disappeared back into his room. The house was then silent, with the exception of Brendon’s faint snores and occasional sobs from Mikey. Another messy, sleepless night for Dallon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	10. Of Forks and Toasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serious talks, visits, and cooking-related close calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Before breakfast, Dallon brought Mikey and Gerard into his office and closed the door.

“I think you two need to talk,” he said gently. “Mikey, do you want to start?”

“I miss you,” he told Gerard. His voice was strained, like he was trying not to cry. Gerard started to speak, but Mikey interrupted. “You sp-spend all your time with Frank and I feel like I’m n-not good enough for you ‘cause you don’t hang out with me anymore. You said we’d be best friends forever!” Mikey couldn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Mikes… I didn’t mean-”

“But you did! You didn’t mean to but you did and you said you wouldn’t leave me but it’s like you’re already gone!”

Gerard’s eyes watered. “I… I didn’t know… I thought maybe you’d be better off without me.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Mikey sniffled. “And I told you I need you and you said you wouldn’t leave me but I don’t think I believe you anymore.”

Gerard’s heart broke a little bit. He couldn’t lose Mikey’s trust. “I…”

“Mikey, would you feel better if there was a time every day when Gerard spent time with you? That way you know that he’ll hang out with you every day.”

Mikey nodded slowly.

“Gerard, what do you think?” Dallon asked. 

“I l-like that. Can every morning after breakfast be Mikey time?” Gerard looked at Mikey hopefully.

“Yeah,” Mikey mumbled. He looked at his brother and Gerard gave him a small smile. “For how long after breakfast?”

“However long you want,” Gerard said. The hint of a happy expression flashed across Mikey’s face and he hugged his brother tight.

“I love you, Gee.”

“I love you too, no matter what.”

Dallon smiled as the brothers embraced, opening the door to his office. A few moments later, Patrick shouted that breakfast was ready.

“C’mon, boys!” Dallon said, leading the way to the dining room. Gerard sat between Mikey and Frank, whispering to Frank that after his breakfast he’d spend time with his brother every morning. Frank nodded in agreement. He didn’t want to steal Gerard away from Mikey. 

Josh seemed better. Still tense, but better. He stayed pressed up beside Tyler the entire meal, and Tyler gave him reassuring looks every few minutes. Nobody asked about Brendon’s bruised face.  
After everyone finished eating (pancakes, courtesy of Patrick), Frank and Ryan did the dishes and the others scattered to do their own things. Gerard and Mikey went to the library to practice reading while Tyler and Josh and Pete watched tv, and Patrick and Brendon worked on the song a bit. Dallon checked in with all the boys, grabbed a book from his little library, then finally headed off the visit Spencer.

\----

“I’m here to see Spencer Smith?”

“That way, room 104,” a man behind the desk told him. Dallon thanked the man and hurried down the hall, opening the door quietly and slipping into the room. He was surprised to see a short lady with dark skin and kind eyes in the chair beside him, holding his hand as best she could while his wrists had restraints around them.

“Are you Dallon?” she asked quietly. Dallon nodded, confused. “He was asking for you. I’m Gloria. He was my patient during the night shift.”

“Isn’t the night shift over?” Dallon asked, looking at his watch.

“It is, but I didn’t want to leave the poor boy alone,” Gloria smiled.

“That’s so kind of you,” Dallon said, his eyes watering a bit. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I’ll let you wake him.”

She got up with another smile, resting a comforting hand on Dallon’s arm as she left. 

“Spence,” Dallon said softly, sitting down in the chair by the bed and taking his hand.

“Dal?” Spencer said, slowly opening his eyes. He squinted a bit; the light was bright. He seemed to realize where he was and tensed up, gripping Dallon’s hand.

“It’s okay, Spence. I’m here.”

“It was scary,” Spencer breathed. “I hate it here.”

“I know. But in three days you’ll be out of here. Today is day one.”

Spencer nodded.

“I brought a book, would you like me to read to you?”

“What book?”

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

Spencer smiled a bit. “Yeah. Thanks, Dal.”

\----

Pete looked down at his watch, then sighed. He glanced over at Josh, who was staring at the tv but didn’t really seem to be absorbing anything. 

“Dude, we’re on lunch duty today,” he said. Josh flinched. “You don’t have to do it,” Pete rushed on. 

“I’ll get ‘Trick to help.”

“Are… are you sure?”

“Yeah, man. Don’t worry about it. If something’s not good for you, don’t do it.”

“Thanks,” Josh replied, providing a weak smile and snuggling closer to Tyler.

“No problem. I’ll go find ‘Trick.” Pete hauled himself to his feet and lumbered off to the music room, where his boyfriend would most likely be. Pete was, for once, correct. Patrick and Brendon were enthusiastically discussing which chords would fit well it the chorus of the song, and Pete almost felt bad to interrupt.

“‘Trick, will you help me make lunch?”

Patrick looked the closest to annoyed that he was able to look, which was essentially just a sad frown with his arms crossed.

“But Bren and I have some good ideas!”

“I know, but Josh isn’t up to it and Dallon made that rule that there has to be more that one of us in the kitchen when we’re cooking real food for some fucking reason.”

“You know why he made that rule,” Patrick admonished him, and he hung his head a bit.

“Yeah, I know. Will you help me? Bren can come too…”

“Hey, don’t get me into this,” Brendon said. “My ass will remain right here.”

Patrick looked at Pete and sighed dramatically. “Alright. But get someone else to help you with the dishes.”

Pete grinned and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. “Awesome, let’s go.”

Brendon watched them leave with a giggle. He knew that Pete really hadn’t needed to beg. Patrick would do anything for him, including abandoning his guitar for cooking with Pete, which was always an adventure. Pete was notorious for setting off the fire alarm somehow. Brendon returned to playing around with chords, making sure to brace himself just in case. He never really was a fan of loud noises. He nearly fell out of his chair when his phone rang, evidently having not prepared himself enough to be startled. Though to be fair, he’d been expecting a high-pitched beeping instead of disco music. After a moment of panic, he answered the phone.

“Hello?” 

“Bren?”

“Hey Dal, what’s up?”

“I’m going to stay a while with Spencer. At least until eight tonight, unless you guys need me. Can you let the other boys know and make sure to call me if anything’s wrong?”

“Sure. Tell Spence I say hi, okay?”

“Will do. Thank you, Bren.”

“O’ course. Love you, Dal.”

“I love you, see you later.”

Brendon waited for Dallon to hang up, the stowed his phone away in his pocket. He placed his guitar back on its stand and headed first to the library.

“Hey Mikey, hey Gee,” he said, greeting the brothers. “Dallon’s not getting home until eight-ish, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

The boys nodded, and Brendon moved on to the living room. Ryan, Frank, Tyler, and Josh were watching some terrible reality show, and Brendon was quite pleased to interrupt it. His boyfriend was a little less pleased with this.

“Stop blocking the tv!” Ryan pouted, trying to shoo Brendon aside like a fly. “Git!”

“It don’t work like that,” Frank said sympathetically. “Try… what’s the word for saying you’ll give someone something?”

“Bribing,” Tyler offered, and Frank nodded.

“Try bribing him. Or threatening him,” he finished. Ryan’s eyes sparkled.

“Bren, if you move I’ll make out with you whenever you want within the next 24 hours, but if you don’t move I won’t kiss you for a week!”

“Unfair!” Brendon exclaimed. “You can’t do both!”

“But I did though,” Ryan smirked, flipping his shortish hair to the best of his ability. “Anyway, now   
it’s commercial break. Why did you interrupt us so politely?”

“Dal’s staying with Spence until eight-ish. He said to call if we need anything or if anything happens.”

“Is-”

Tyler was cut off by a shriek from the kitchen. “PETE, DON’T PUT THE FORK IN THE TOASTER!!!!”

“Dear lord give me strength,” Tyler muttered. “I’ll go.”

He kissed Josh’s cheek and hurried off to see what Pete had done. He skidded into the kitchen, observing the scene before him.

“Could be worse,” he muttered. There was severely burnt toast on the floor, Pete was holding a fork but looked unscathed, and Patrick was covering his face with his hands.

“You will be the death of me,” Patrick said, his voice low and unsteady.

“All good?” Tyler asked. Pete was still frozen, his eyes wide. He’d never heard Patrick yell like that before.

“You moron!” Patrick sobbed, latching onto Pete like a koala bear. “Never do that again!”

Pete stroked Patrick’s hair gently. “I’m fine, ‘Trick.”

Patrick sniffled, and Pete removed his glasses to wipe away the tears.

“It’s okay,” Pete told him.

“All good?” Tyler repeated, and Pete nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks, Ty guy.”

“Sick. Let me know if you guys need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... Xoxo


	11. Who Knows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how to summarize, just life. We can all laugh in retrospect at Pete's adventures in cooking, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, my apologies for lack of updates. Life's been kicking my ass a bit, but I'd like to think I landed a few solid punches in there somewhere. (Probably wishful thinking...) Anyway, I'll try hard to do better! Comments help motivate me, as well, so if you guys want updates sooner, comment to let me know <3
> 
>  
> 
> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

It was closer to nine when Dallon got home that night. He looked tired, but he gave each boy a smile and hug upon greeting them. 

“Spence is doing alright,” he told them reassuringly. “Just two more days, not counting tonight.”

“Is our song gonna be ready in time?” Frank asked, looking to Brendon and Patrick.

Brendon nodded. “It should be. I worked on it awhile today.”

“Excellent,” Dallon said. “He’s going to love it.”

“Can we watch Bob’s Burgers tonight?” Ryan asked hopefully, glancing at the tv.

“Any objections?” Dallon looked around. “Alright, Bob’s Burgers it is.”

Pete whooped and catapulted himself onto one of the couches, bouncing off and landing at Patrick’s feet.

“Ow.”

“You’re in idiot,” Patrick said fondly, helping his boyfriend up. All the boys squished onto the couches except for Mikey, who curled up next to Dallon on a plush armchair. Tyler grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix while Pete and Ryan squabbled over which episode to watch. Gerard at last timidly ended the argument by suggesting the one where everyone has a water balloon fight because rent prices went up. 

“Genius,” Ryan said, and Pete nodded. Tyler selected the episode and placed an arm around Josh, settling in to watch the cartoon. 

Things seemed to bear some semblance of normalcy in that moment, a rare occurrence as of late. Dallon looked fondly at his boys, the way the tv lit up their faces and how giggles cascaded from the group every few minutes. Everything was okay right then. Maybe not an hour ago, or in an hour, or today or yesterday or tomorrow, but Dallon figured he should live in the moment; stop dwelling on his worries and fears. What good would that do him, anyway?

\----

Gerard was sitting at his desk, drawing in his sketchbook with just the light of his small desk lamp. It was quite late, and he made sure not to make much noise so as not to wake Mikey. Everyone had gone to bed several hours ago, but he couldn’t sleep. He felt like depression and guilt were chasing him and if he stopped to rest they might catch up. So he sketched away, determined to keep his eyes open. There was suddenly a soft knock on the doorframe and Gerard nearly fell out of his chair. He spun around, exhaling in relief when it was just Dallon. The tall man gave him an apologetic smile.

“May I come in?” he whispered. Gerard nodded. Dallon walked over, pulling the chair from Mikey’s desk up to Gerard’s. “I thought you might be awake. Do you remember when we talked a few days ago about medicine to help with depression?”

“Yeah,” Gerard said quietly.

“I called the doctor’s office, and they have an opening tomorrow because another patient cancelled. Would you like me to book the appointment?” Dallon asked, his voice soft.

Gerard considered this, then finally nodded. 

“Excellent, I’ll do that.” Dallon glanced down at his watch. “It’s getting late, it might be good to try and get some sleep…”

Gerard looked away uncomfortably.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Gerard inclined his head.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“I… I’m scared.”

“Scared of falling asleep?” Dallon asked.

“It’s stupid.”

“Gerard, it’s not stupid at all.”

Gerard bit his lip, his eyes watery.

“I promise it’s not stupid. I was scared to fall asleep for a long time. I still am, sometimes.”

“R-really?” Gerard glanced up.

“Yes, it’s not just you. When I was younger, some bad things happened to me. I was afraid to sleep because the   
nightmares were terrifying. I still get them sometimes, and sometimes I stay up doing paperwork to avoid them. You’re not alone; you’ll never be alone.”

“What made things get better?” Gerard asked tentatively.

“It’s difficult, but I had to work on accepting the hard times. That way they didn’t scare me as much. Of course it’s not that simple, it takes time and patience, but it helps in the long run. Another thing can help is sleeping near people you trust because it can make feel like you’re more protected,” Dallon said, his voice warm. Gerard glanced over to where Mikey was sound asleep in his bed.

“I’m sure Mikey wouldn’t mind if you sleep next to him.” Dallon seemed to read Gerard’s mind. “Why don’t you put your pencils and sketchbook away, and I can tuck you in?”

“Alright,” Gerard whispered. He gathered his colored pencils and slid them into their case, then tucked his sketchbook into a desk drawer. Dallon pulled back the covers on Mikey’s bed enough so Gerard could climb in, then tugged them back up so they were snug beneath Gerard’s chin.

“Night night, G. You can always wake me up if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Dallon smiled at him, then turned to switch off the lights and headed off to bed.

\-----

The first thing Mikey noticed when he awoke was how warm he was. He opened his eyes slowly and found his brother curled up beside him, sleeping soundly. This brought a small smile to Mikey’s face, and he snuggled closer to Gerard. They used to do this before they were brought to Dallon’s house, and Mikey missed it. He closed his eyes again and drifted back off to sleep.

\-----

Brendon slid out of bed and went to brush his teeth, then combed his hair and got dressed upon return. He and Tyler were on breakfast duty; neither of them were exemplary chefs but they got the job done. They were, however, much better than Pete. 

Tyler was already in the kitchen when Brendon walked in, looking through a cupboard while lost in thought. Brendon knocked on the countertop so as not to startle him too badly.

Tyler spun around, then smiled. “Oh! Hi, Brendon,” he said.

“Hey, Ty,” Brendon cheerfully returned the greeting. “What should we make? Is there even anything left to eat? I don’t think anyone’s gone grocery shopping since… y’know.”

“All I can find is oatmeal. I don’t think it’s too hard to cook,” Tyler replied. 

“Oatmeal it is,” Brendon grinned. They chatted as they worked, finding a bowl and pouring in the oatmeal and water and setting it on the stove. Brendon stirred the oatmeal as Tyler cleaned up the oats Brendon had accidentally spilled. 

“How’s breakfast coming?” Patrick asked, padding into the kitchen in his pyjamas. “Oatmeal?”

“Yep!” Brendon said. “I’d like to think it’s going well.”

“We haven’t set anything on fire,” Tyler added. “Or stuck any forks in the toaster. Cough, Pete, cough.”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of an idiot,” Patrick admitted. “It’s endearing.”

“Sure, endearing after you finish having ten different heart attacks,” Brendon said teasingly.

“Also true,” Patrick shrugged. “He’s probably shaved several years off my lifespan. Hey, do I smell something burning?”

“Nope,” Tyler said, turning off the stove and whisking the pan away. “Not anymore, anyway.”

He grabbed a towel and put it on the dining room table, then placed the pan down. Brendon grabbed some bowls and spoons and set the table.

“Okay, let’s go wake people up. Breakfast time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... (I promise) Xoxo


	12. Emotional Improvement? Maybe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast, nerves, and semi-poorly delivered sick burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again, hopefully it hasn't been too long since the last update... I've been somewhat scatterbrained, so I haven't really kept track of updating. *I'll get better, I promise (hopefully). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter; it's a fairly fluffy one. Thanks so much for reading. <3
> 
> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)
> 
> *I'm doing my best to write more, it's just somewhat difficult due to parallels between this story and real life. It gets a bit too real sometimes haha

“Did everyone sleep alright?” Dallon asked, spooning himself some oatmeal from the pan once everyone had taken their share. All the boys provided some variation of “fine” or “good.”

“Excellent,” Dallon said. “I believe today would be a good day to work on Spencer’s song?”

“Yeah!” Brendon exclaimed, and most others nodded vigorously.

“How are the lyrics coming along?” asked Dallon. 

“Good,” Tyler said, looking from Brendon to Gerard. “Collaborating is pretty sick.”

“And the drums?”

“Almost done,” Josh said, cracking a smile. “Bren and Patrick are helping.”

“The bassline is really cool, too,” Pete added.

“Yeah, I don’t know how Pete came up with it,” Tyler said. 

“Awesome!” Dallon grinned. “How about the guitars?”

“It’s really good and good and fun and it’s super fun!” Frank exclaimed, bouncing in his seat and spilling some of his oatmeal. Gerard smiled a little tiny bit.

Ryan laughed. “Frank has great ideas. I’m excited, I think it’ll be pretty neat. I hope Spencer likes it.”

Patrick nodded in agreement.

“Are you gonna go to see him today?” Brendon asked Dallon. “Spence, I mean.”

“After I take Gerard to his appointment, yes,” Dallon replied. “Last night he was doing alright; hopefully he’ll be released tomorrow.”

“We better get working on that song, then,” said Pete. “We can have it finished by tonight.”

“It’s crunch time!” Ryan said.

Frank jumped up, but Tyler pulled him back.

“Finish your breakfast first,” he reprimanded gently. “The guitars can wait a few minutes.”

Frank sighed, then began shoveling oatmeal into his mouth like there was no tomorrow. Gerard watched for a moment, then grabbed his hand.

“Please don’t choke and die,” he whispered. Frank considered this, then began to eat marginally slower. 

“Well, at least it’s improvement,” Josh shrugged.

“A for effort?” Patrick suggested.

“B for some effort,” Pete said. “That is unfortunately not an A-worthy performance.”

Dallon chuckled a bit. “Hey Gerard, we should finish up. We have to leave for the appointment in ten minutes or so.”

Gerard nodded, trying to school his face into a less nervous expression.

“It’ll be alright,” Josh said kindly. “I’ve been there a bunch. The doctor’s really nice.”

Gerard nodded, seemingly a bit more relaxed. He downed one last bite of oatmeal and then got up, taking his bowl to the kitchen. He was placing it in the sink when Mikey appeared by his side.

“You can do it,” Mikey told him. “You’re my big brother. You can do anything.”

Gerard pulled Mikey into a warm hug.

“Thanks, Mikes,” he said, his voice muffled by Mikey’s hair. Gerard finally let go and made his way towards the front door to find his jacket and shoes. Mikey trailed after him, watching as Gerard started to tie his shoes. Frank trotted out of the dining room and plopped down on the floor next to Gerard. He noticed Gerard’s hands trembling and gently pushed them away, tying his shoes for him.

“There you are,” Frank said cheerfully. He helped Gerard up and led him forward to the closet, where Mikey was shuffling through the coats. He finally found Gerard’s and held it out, offering it to him. Gerard smiled, pulling on the coat shakily.

“Ready to go?” Dallon asked, slipping on his shoes and pulling his own coat from the closet.

“Yeah,” Gerard said, his voice cracking. Frank nudged Mikey and whispered something into his ear. Mikey cocked his head, then nodded and grinned. Frank stepped forward and quickly kissed Gerard, then stepped back with a smirk on his face. Gerard stood there, his eyes wide and cheeks red.

“You got this,” said Frank.

“I… um…” Gerard stumbled over his words, and everyone chuckled a bit, including Dallon.

“You have a great moral support team, don’t you,” Dallon teased. Gerard blushed even harder. Mikey reached up and patted his brother’s head.

“Good luck, Gee!”

“Yeah, Josh said the doctor’s real nice!” Frank added. Gerard nodded and followed Dallon out to the car. 

“He’s right. The doctor is very understanding,” Dallon said as they turned out of the driveway and onto the road. Gerard watched the trees waving in the breeze on the roadside for a few minutes.

“Will… will I have to… um… go in alone?” Gerard finally asked, his voice shaking.

“Certainly not if you don’t want to,” Dallon replied gently. “Would you like me to go in with you?”

“Yes please,” Gerard exhaled. “Thank you, Mr. Weekes. I mean, Dallon.”

“I think every time you call me Mr. Weekes, I’m going to call you Mr. Way,” Dallon said with a playful grin, coaxing a half-smile from Gerard. 

“That’s weird,” the boy mumbled, biting back a giggle.

“That’s what I think when you call me Mr. Weekes,” Dallon laughed. “Mr. Weekes makes me sound old.”

“Well, you’re-” Gerard snapped his mouth shut, cutting off his cheeky response. He couldn’t believe himself. He’d almost just disrespected an adult. What was he thinking? He flinched away from Dallon, hiding his face. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

Dallon glanced at the cowering boy, then pulled the car over and put on his hazards.  
“Gerard, I promise I won’t hurt you. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Gerard inhaled shakily, keeping his eyes down.

“You can call me whatever you want. Old, stupid, noodle, giraffe, dally long-legs, grandpa, dumbass, anything. You can curse at me, hit  
me, and I promise you right now that I would never hurt you. You’re safe.”

Gerard remained silent and still.

“I’m serious, Gerard. It’s okay if you don’t believe me, but I just wanted you to know that. Also, that sassy comeback you were going to deliver about me being old was in excellent taste and I’d love to hear it when you feel comfortable.”

“R-really?”

“One hundred percent. Brendon would be so proud.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“I would have found it extremely funny,” Dallon smiled.

“How… how do you know?” Gerard stuttered. Dallon tilted his head in confusion. “Like… what if I called you… ol-old and then you  
decided you d-didn’t like it and that you should p-punish me?”

“First of all, I would never punish you like that. Second, the boys have called me old more times that I can count and I’ve laughed at each one. I’ve also been called much, much worse. Being old isn’t a bad thing, anyway.”

“Worse?”

“A couple of the boys have cussed me out pretty nicely on a few different occasions.”

“What punishment did they get?” Gerard asked nervously, almost not wanting to know.

“Oh, I didn’t punish them! I don’t believe in punishing anyone. It wasn’t their fault, and I wasn’t mad at them.”

Gerard appeared at a loss.

“How about that comeback you had, then?” Dallon asked cheerfully.

“Wh-what?”

“I believe you were going to call me old?”

“No, yeah, wait what?”

“Go for it, call me old!”

“You… you want me to call you old?” Gerard looked completely and utterly befuddled.

“I would find that very humorous indeed.”

“Oh… o-okay? Um… Dallon, you’re o-old.”

Dallon’s smile turned into a huge grin. He turned off his hazard lights and looked in the rearview mirror before pulling back onto the road.

“Good job, Mr. Way.”

Gerard couldn’t help it. He snorted, for once not holding back his laughter. He was away from his old home. He had a guardian who cared about him. He had his Mikey and a kickass boyfriend and a bunch of other awesome kids he lived with. He was getting treatment for his depression and he could draw or sing whenever he wanted. He’d just called someone old and they’d laughed about it. Things, he supposed, were finally looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... <3


	13. Grilled cheese pizza sandwiches and Mr. Flourman the Amazing Cakemaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of shits and giggles here! This one was really fun to write and I'm kinda proud of myself... I hope it makes you laugh!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Frank was digging through the refrigerator, looking for a snack, when it came to him. The perfect idea. Cake makes people happy, right? Spencer wasn’t very happy. Frank, the amazing genius, would bake Spencer a cake. It couldn’t be too hard, right? … Right? He contemplated looking up directions, but decided against it. Cake was just flour… and sugar? And butter? In a pan. With some weird powder to make it fluffy. Probably. 

So Frank got to work, dumping random amounts of said ingredients into a bowl and then stirring everything together. When the bowl’s contents bore some semblance of cake batter, he plopped it into a pan and shoved in it the oven. 350 degrees, he decided after actually figuring out how to work the oven. 

He grinned, proud of his baking accomplishments thus far. He then looked down at his clothes and his smile slid into a frown upon realizing that he now looked like a flour-ghost. Great, he made a mess. He glanced around at his flour-dusted surroundings and made the executive decision to clean up later and watch his cake back now. So he turned on the oven light and plopped down, staring at his beautiful creation.

“What… the actual fuck??”

Frank spun around to find Pete and Brendon frozen in the doorway. His eyes widened.

“Pete done it!” he said, trying to slip between the two boys.

“No he didn’t,” Brendon said, catching Frank’s arm and tugging him back into the kitchen. “I give that excuse a 5/10. It would be very believable if Pete wasn’t standing next to me and if you weren’t literally covered in flour. God, what did you do? Bathe in it?”

“More importantly, what’s that blob in the oven?” Pete asked.

“I… er… I was tryin’ to make a cake for Spencer,” Frank said sheepishly. “M’sorry.”

“No, don’t say sorry,” Brendon told him. “I think that’s a great idea, Frank. You just have to clean up, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “I just didn’ wanna get in trouble.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Pete reassured. “How about we work on cleaning up, yeah?”

“‘kay, I’ll clean the counters!”

“I’ll sweep the floor,” Brendon offered, grinning at Frank. “I think there might be more flour down there than on you, and that takes a lot.”

“I’ll do the dishes,” Pete said. “I won’t break anything, I swear.”

“Here’s to hoping,” muttered Brendon, easily dodging the gentle shove Pete aimed at him. “So Frank, what did you put in that cake? Besides flour?”

\-----

Dallon smiled at Gerard as they walked out of the doctor’s office, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Great job, kiddo! I’m proud of you.”

“How come?” Gerard asked tentatively.

“Why am I proud? I think you were very brave for agreeing to come. It clearly made you anxious, but you did it and I admire your courage.”

Gerard didn’t seem to have a response to that. They got into the car and began the drive back home, stopping partway at a pharmacy to pick up Gerard’s new meds. When they finally pulled in to the long driveway, it was lunchtime and neither of them could wait to devour Patrick’s grilled cheese pizza sandwiches. Dallon had just gotten out of the car when he spotted three completely white figures running around in the backyard.

“What the fu-dge?” he shook his head in confusion. Gerard followed his gaze, his eyebrows furled. 

“Are they… playing tag?”

“I think so?” Dallon said. “I was more wondering why they’re all white… Goodness, I hope it’s not paint.”

Dallon and Gerard hurried inside, taking off their shoes and jackets. Mikey greeted them in the hall, giving Gerard a hug.

“Mikey, you wouldn’t happen to know what’s going on outside, would you?” Dallon asked. Mikey grinned.

“Frank tried to make a cake and then Pete and Brendon tried to help.”

“So the white stuff is flower?” Gerard asked, and Mikey nodded. Dallon sighed in relief. 

“As long as it’s not paint. I wouldn’t put it past those three.”

“What happened to the cake?” asked Gerard thoughtfully. “I can’t see Frank’s baking turning out too well…”

“Patrick didn’t have the heart to throw it away, so he just made another one,” Ryan said, waltzing into the room. “As much as I love watching my boyfriend run around covered in flour, I decided that writing a song about it would be more entertaining. So excuse me while I go get my guitar.”

“I’m excited to hear said song!” Dallon called after him. Gerard and Mikey nodded vigorously in agreement. Patrick then poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Does anyone want to help with lunch?” he asked hopefully. “I think Brendon was supposed to, but… he’s now calling himself Mr. Flourman the Amazing Cakemaster and Pete and Frank wanted the title and challenged him for it, so they’re playing ‘Catch-Me-If-You-Want-To-Be-Called-Mr.-Flourman-the-Amazing-Cakemaster’.

“I’ll help,” Gerard said with a small smile. 

“Me too?” said Mikey tentatively.

“Of course,” Patrick replied, his voice warm. “You can grate the cheese. Gerard, can you start the tomato soup?”

The boys headed into the kitchen, leaving Dallon to go supervise the game of Catch-Me-If-You-Want-To-Be-Called-Mr.-Flourman-the-Amazing-Cakemaster. By the time he got outside, Brendon, Pete and Frank had titled themselves “Sir Flourman the Amazing Cakemaster,” “Dr. Flourman the Amazing Cakemaster the Second,” and “Mr. Flourman the Amazing Cakemaster Jr.” respectively. They were now playing a live version of Just Dance, and whoever copied Tyler’s (admittedly very poor) dance moves the best won. Josh was practically wheezing with laughter, and Ryan was sitting beside him and strumming his guitar with immense focus.

“Covered in white powder that looks like cocaine,  
My Breadbin in shining armor ran from the pain  
Of Pete and Frank taking his title awayyyyyy…  
So they came to a stupid compromise  
And Josh laughs so hard he cries  
At his boyfriend flailing- I mean dancing- really badly but we love him anywayyyy…”

Ryan played a few more chords then looked up proudly. “Is it good?”

“Beautiful,” Josh gasped. “So good…”

Dallon nodded in agreement, his chest hurting from the laughter. “Amazing. Such beautiful lyrics.”

“Record it so you can show it to Spence! You’re visiting him after lunch, right?”

“I am! That’s a great idea. Ryan, sit there so the Flourmen are in the background…” Dallon directed, pressing record and trying not to drown out Ryan’s song with his and Josh’s laughter. Josh gave a hearty round of applause when the short song ended, and Dallon offered a high-five. They then turned around and watched the Flourmen play Just Dance, each of them caving and eventually joining in. It was soon discovered that Dallon was an even worse dancer than Tyler, which nobody thought would even be possible. Dallon’s long limbs just really weren't working well for him.

“You look- like a giraffe,” Brendon cackled, not even bothering to wipe the laughter from his eyes. “A spider-giraffe.”

Everyone else proceeded to lose it even further, in various states of dying on the ground. The back door creaked open, and Gerard stepped outside.

“It’s… uh… time for lunch?” he called out tentatively. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m decreased!” Frank shouted. “Pete says it means dead!”

“He means deceased,” Tyler told Gerard with a grin. “And don’t worry, he’s fine.”

“Alright, boys,” Dallon said, gasping for breath. “You heard Gerard, lunchtime!”

Pete and Brendon looked at each other, then started racing for the door. Frank dashed after them like an excitable puppy.

“You three clean up and change first!” Dallon called after them. Everyone else finally got to their feet and headed into the house. Lunch was waiting on the table, and boy were those grilled cheese pizza sandwiches delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... <3


	14. Of Ups and Downs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Emotional Rollercoaster, have a lovely ride! It's a long one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

“I can’t fucking wait to get out of here,” Spencer sighed, looking up at Dallon with tired eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept much last night. 

“Tomorrow afternoon, Spence. Only twenty-four hours,” Dallon offered a gentle smile. “The boys have big plans, but I’m not saying any more because they’d probably flay me.”

“Probably,” Spencer nodded, his face slightly brighter. “You can’t tell me anything at all?”

“Nope!” Dallon said. He pulled out his phone. “I can, however, show you a video that made me laugh so hard I cried.”

“I’m interested,” Spencer said, sitting up a bit more. “Showmeshowme.”

Dallon played the video he took a few hours earlier of Ryan singing his beautiful composition as the Amazing Cakemasters danced (flailed) in the background. Spencer choked on his breath and gasped for air, wheezing as Dallon replayed the video. 

“What… even -the FUCK- was that?! What is the white shit??”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you any context… My apologies.”

“DAL!!!”

“You’ll find out tomorrow?”

“But Dal!”

“Want me to read you more Harry Potter?”

“Fine,” Spencer sighed, still pouting. “We left off in Snape’s dungeon.”

“Alright,” Dallon grabbed the book from the bedside table. “Let’s see… here we are. Harry’s first potions   
lesson.”

\---

“Gee, time to work on the- Gee?” Mikey hurried over to Gerard. “Oh no, you’re having a panic… Okay, I’m gonna go get Tyler. He knows what to d-do.”

Mikey ran down the stairs so fast he almost fell. He skidded around the corner into the living room and nearly crashed right into Pete.

“Whoa there, what’s up, Mikey? Why so speedy?”

“G-Gee’s panicking… He n-needs help.”

“Okay, shit, Dallon’s not home… TY!” Pete shouted, and Tyler rushed out of the music room.

“What happened?!”

“Gerard’s having a panic attack,” Pete said. “Can you help him?”

“Of course. Mikes, where is he?”

“Bedroom.”

Tyler nodded, taking Mikey’s hand and hurrying upstairs. Gerard was curled on his bed, shaking and choking for breath. Tyler sat down, making sure to give Gerard bit of space.

“Gerard, can you try to take a deep breath for me?”

Gerard gasped, but couldn’t seem to fill his lungs with air. 

“Okay, that’s okay,” Tyler soothed. “I’m going to put my hand next to yours so you can hold it if you want to.”

Tyler heard a soft sniffle and looked up to see Mikey crying. 

“He’ll be okay, Mikes,” Tyler said gently. “Why don’t you go ask Patrick for a hug? He gives great hugs.”

Mikey nodded and left the room. Tyler immediately turned his attention back to Gerard.

“Okay, Gee. Try to breathe with me okay?” 

Gerard managed to copy a couple of Tyler’s breaths, but he could feel himself getting lightheaded. He grabbed Tyler’s hand, choking on the cruel air. 

“Easy,” Tyler said, his voice soft. “Can you squeeze my hand?”

Gerard did so, and Tyler nodded encouragingly. “Now two squeezes… Now three…”

Gerard seemed to calm a bit, but then his breathing sped up again and he was back to suffocating in oxygen.

Just then, Ryan poked his head through the doorway.   
“Mikey said Gerard was panicking. Anything I can do?”

“Call Dallon and ask if we can give him Xanax,” Tyler said. Ryan nodded, looking grim. 

“Sure thing.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Dallon’s number.

“Hello?” Dallon answered, the line crackling a bit.

“Hey, it’s Ryan. So Gerard’s having a panic attack and it looks bad, like pretty bad. Ty was wondering if we could give him Xanax.”

“Can I talk to him?”

Ryan peeked back into the room; Gerard’s eyes were glazed over and unfocused.

“I honestly don’t think he can talk right now, Dal,” Ryan said.

“Okay. You can give him Xanax if he consents to it. Preferably verbally, but if he can’t…” Dallon trailed off with a long exhale. “I’m leaving the hospital now. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Alright, thanks Dal,” Ryan said just before the line went dead. He rushed off and grabbed a cup of water with a straw and Xanax, then slipped back into the room. He sat down at the edge of the bed.

“Gerard, I have Xanax here. It’ll help you calm down. Would you like to take it?” Ryan asked, resting a hand on Gerard’s. Gerard didn’t seem to register this, so Ryan repeated his question. Gerard looked up at him semi-vacantly. After another try, Gerard’s eyes focused a bit more and he tried to reach for the pill, but his arms were limp.

“Gee, can you nod if you’d like the Xanax?” Tyler asked gently. Gerard jerked his head up and back down.

“Okay. Open your mouth…” Tyler placed the pill on Gerard’s tongue and Ryan held the straw to his lips so he could down it with water.

“Good job,” Ryan said, running his thumb over Gerard’s knuckles. Tyler tucked the boy beneath his arm and pulled a blanket around them.

“Let’s try to breathe now, okay?” He turned to Ryan. “Go check on Mikey,” he mouthed. Ryan nodded and headed out of the room to find the younger Way brother.

\-----

It was Dallon’s fault, he wouldn’t try to deny it. He hadn’t even looked at the speedometer; all he was focused on was getting home. So of course he’d gone and gotten himself pulled over because he was going 55 in a 30 zone. He hissed out a few choicey words when he saw the lights flashing behind him, then slowed down and pulled over. He rolled down his window and rested his head in his hands as he waited for the cop to get out of his car.

“Sir, I need to see your I.D.”

Dallon took a deep breath and straightened up, pulling his driver’s license from his wallet and handing it over.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“Yessir. I was speeding, but I didn’t realize until you stopped me.”

“You didn’t realize, huh?” The cop looked skeptical at best.

“I was trying to get home, sir. One of my boys is having a bad panic attack and I need to get home to him.”

“And where are you coming from? Certainly not work, this late on a Sunday?”

“No sir. I was visiting another of my boys in the hospital. He attempted suicide last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The cop handed Dallon back his license. “Listen, Mr. Weekes. I’m going to let you off with a warning today, but don’t let it happen again. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir. Thank you.”

“Good. Now you go home to your boys. I hope everything turns out okay.”

“Thank you again, sir. Have a good evening.” 

The cop headed back to his car, and Dallon exhaled in relief. He started up his car and pulled back out onto the road, making sure to check his speed. When he finally pulled in to the driveway and parked the car, he jumped out and ran inside. He didn’t bother removing his coat or shoes as he strode down the hall.   
He heard faint sobs coming from the living room and headed in there first, finding Mikey curled between Ryan and Patrick, crying into Patrick’s shirt.

“We got him, you should check on Gee first,” Ryan whispered. “He’s upstairs.”

“Thank you both,” Dallon replied with a nod, hurrying upstairs. He found Gerard wrapped in Tyler’s arms, his breathing shallow and his eyes glassy.

“We gave him the Xanax twenty minutes ago and he’s a bit better. He’s breathing fast but even,” Tyler said quietly. “He’s starting to relax. I think he’s worn out.”

“Good. It’d be nice if he can rest for a bit, but he probably shouldn’t knock out or else he might panic again when he wakes up.”

Tyler nodded in agreement as Dallon sat down beside him.

“How’s Spence?” he finally asked.

“Good. Sick of the hospital, I think. He’s excited to come home tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Tyler said. “I missed him. We all did.”

Dallon nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “Right. I’m going to go try to calm Mikey down. Tell him Gee’s okay. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Can you send Josh up to keep me company?”

“For sure. Thank you so much for everything, Tyler. I really appreciate you.”

Tyler gave Dallon half a smile. “It’s no problem.”

Dallon headed downstairs, telling Josh to go keep his boyfriend company before hurrying back to the living room. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Mikey.

“Hey, Mikes,” he said gently. “Your brother’s doing okay now.”

“H-he is?”

“Yes, he’s going to rest for a little bit. Tyler’s taking good care of him.”

“O-okay,” Mikey sniffled, holding back a sob.

“What’s bothering you?” Dallon asked, taking the young boy’s hands.

“It’s sc-scary when Gee c-can’t breathe,” Mikey choked. “I… I want him to be ok.”

“I know it is. You’re very brave, Mikey.”

“Yeah, you did a good job getting help for him,” Ryan soothed. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Ryan’s right,” Dallon said. “Your brother’s breathing better now, and Tyler has him nice and cozy with a blanket.”

Mikey nodded shakily. “C-can I have a hug?”

“Of course you can,” Dallon told him, his voice warm. He scooped Mikey up and held him tight. “Would you like some ice cream as a special snack? I think we still have some in the fridge as long as Brendon hasn’t eaten it.”

“Hey!” came Brendon’s indignant response from the kitchen. “So what if I ate it?!”

“You have to buy more!” Patrick exclaimed. “I was going to eat some for midnight snack!”

“First of all, I didn’t eat it yet but I may or may not be about to. Second, midnight snack? What the fuck, Patrick?! You have midnight snack and you don’t invite me?!!!!”

“Fine, you’re invited! Gosh, Pattycakes!” Brendon slid into the living room, arms crossed in mock exasperation.

“You two are ridiculous,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Mikey. Let’s go eat the ice cream before these fu-frickheads get to it.”

“Frickheads? That’s such a Tyler thing to say…” Pete shook his head, and Frank giggled. Ryan took Mikey’s hand and led him into the kitchen, handing him a spoon and taking out the (mostly empty) tub of chocolate-brownie-batter ice cream.

“Yum…” Mikey sighed, digging in. By the time he was done, he had ice cream all over his face and hands. Dallon laughed at the sight, handing him several napkins.

“How come it’s endearing when Mikey makes a mess but we just look like complete idiots?” Pete complained halfheartedly. “No fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, kid,” Dallon said, ruffling his hair playfully. “Go put on Bob’s Burgers, it’s time to watch cartoons.”

Everyone hurried into the living room and crammed onto the couches as the episode began. Dallon watched them all get settled, then plodded back upstairs. He found Tyler asleep with his head on Josh’s shoulder and Josh talking quietly to Gerard, telling the story of some character called Blurryface. Gerard seemed to be drifting in and out of a doze, half listening and half lost in his own mind. Josh was okay with that. To be honest, he was mostly making up the story as he went. He glanced up, seeing Dallon and giving him and thumbs-up. Dallon’s eyes crinkled as he smiled in return. He walked over and sat down, finger-combing Gerard’s messy hair as he listened to Josh’s story. It was actually pretty interesting, and Josh had this soft way of pulling people into his words that Dallon admired. When Josh had finally wrapped up all the plot points and finished the story, Dallon gave him a grin and double-thumbs-up.

“I liked it,” Gerard said faintly, his voice cracking a bit. It was the first time he’d spoke since panicking. Josh looked surprised.

“Thanks,” he said, shrinking a bit under the praise. Dallon looked down at his watch then, and his eyebrows shot up. 

“It’s getting late, almost time for bed.”

Josh yawned and nodded, standing up, stretching, and then poking Tyler awake.

“Wha…”

“Bedtime,” Josh said simply, taking his boyfriend’s hand. Tyler let Josh pull him up and out of the room. 

“Don’t leave,” Gerard whispered to Dallon, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I’m here,” Dallon soothed. “I’m going to call Patrick and tell him to make everyone go to bed, but I’ll stay right here.”

Gerard nodded, curling closer to Dallon.

“Dallon, why are you calling me from upstairs?” Patrick said when he picked up his phone.

“I don’t want to leave Gerard,” Dallon replied. “Would you mind telling everyone to get ready for bed?”

“Sure! Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you Patrick,” Dallon said warmly. He repocketed his phone and looked down at Gerard. The boy’s eyes were drooping heavily, nearly shut.

“Mikey?” he murmured. “Mikes?”

“He’ll be here soon,” Dallon told him. “I promise.” And sure enough, Mikey appeared in the doorway a few minutes later.

“Are you ready for bed?” Dallon asked, and Mikey nodded. “Can you keep your brother company tonight?”

“Yeah,” Mikey replied, a smile flitting across his face. “He’s ok?”

“He’s doing a lot better. He’s just sleepy now.”

Mikey climbed into bed next to Gerard and Dallon tucked them both in.

“Good night, boys. I’ll be in my office if either of you need me, okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey said. Gerard said nothing. He was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... <3


	15. Sleepless Nights, Sleepy Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short lil fluffy chapter. More excitement to come, hopefully soon... (Probably the good kind, too!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Frank awoke to a bright patch of light on his face that managed to sneak in through the curtains. Just his luck, he supposed. He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned. It was 5:00. Who the everloving fuck would wake up that early? His brain, that’s who.

He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth, doing his best to tiptoe quietly so as not to wake anyone. Once finished, he headed downstairs. Maybe he’d do some reading, or practice guitar. Perhaps even work out a bit, though the older boys told him he was too young to have to worry about that. He didn’t think fifteen was so young, but he figured they knew what they were talking about. It was whatever. 

He was heading down the hall when he heard some rustling from Dallon’s office and realized that he wasn’t the first one up after all.

“G’ morning, Dallon,” he said, poking his head into the office.

“Wh- oh, hello Frank. Good morning.” Dallon ran his fingers through his hair, trying to push it into some semblance of neatness. He was wearing yesterday’s clothes and had shockingly heavy bags beneath his eyes. 

“Uh… did you sleep last night?” Frank asked, wide-eyed.

“That, my friend, is a good question,” Dallon said with a yawn. “I might’ve dozed off for a few minutes here and there?”

“Don’ you always tell us to get lots of sleep?”

“I do,” Dallon nodded.

“Isn’t that hippo-critter-ful?” Frank asked earnestly.

“Hypocritical? Maybe a little bit,” Dallon smiled, rubbing his eyes. “But paperwork is paperwork, and it must be done…”

Frank looked fairly concerned. He headed off to the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal, then decided to make some for Dallon as well. He crept back into the office, where he found Dallon resting his head on his arms. Frank didn’t want to disturb him, so he placed the cereal at the end of the desk and made his way to the dining room where his cereal was waiting for him.

\-----

Dallon nearly had a heart attack when the phone rang. He scrambled to pick it up, trying to calm his racing pulse.

“Hello?”

“This is Doctor Wu, I’m in charge of Spencer’s care. He is doing well and can be released this afternoon.   
Can you pick him up at 1:30?”

“Yes ma’am, that sounds good. Thank you very much,” Dallon said, a smile tugging at his cheeks. He placed the phone back on the receiver and rubbed his eyes hard. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bowl on his desk, and he looked over at its contents. Cereal. Cheerios, to be exact. Frank must’ve made it for him, he figured, taking a bite. He stood up, bowl in hand, and checked the kitchen and dining room before finding Frank curled on the couch in the living room with a book in hand. He seemed to be concentrating hard, his finger floating across the page and stopping occasionally when he sounded out words he didn’t know.

“Thank you for the cereal, Frank,” Dallon said, and the boy looked up sharply.

“N’ problem!” he replied, his face breaking into a grin. “Wanna sit down?”

Dallon nodded, settling down beside Frank and taking another bite of cereal.

“What’re you reading?” Dallon asked, his mouth still partially full. Frank giggled at this.

“James and the Giant Peach,” he said. “Mikey read it n’ said it was good.”

“I agree with him; Roald Dahl is an excellent writer,” said Dallon. “What do you think so far?”

“I like it,” Frank answered. “‘S really funny!”

“You should read ‘The BFG’,” Dallon told him, smiling. “That one’s really good.”

“What do’ that stand for?” Frank asked curiously.

“The Big Friendly Giant. I remember the first time I read it, I laughed so hard that my teacher told me to leave the classroom because I was being loud during silent reading time.”

“The teacher made you leave?” 

Dallon nodded, his eyes crinkling. “How about you ask Brendon or Josh or Pete to take you to the bookstore tomorrow? You can buy The BFG and some other books that you’re interested in.”

“Really?!” Frank’s eyes were wide with excitement. 

“Sure! You’re going to love the bookstore.”

Frank bounced excitedly in his seat, nearly dropping his book.

“Thank you!”

Dallon laughed. “Of course.” He looked down at his cereal and frowned. “Oh dear, it’s getting soggy. I’d better eat it fast.”

Frank tried to hide his giggles as he watched Dallon inhale the cereal.

“Mmm, delithith.” Dallon stood up with a smile and headed off to deposit the bowl in the kitchen. Upon return, Frank had set down James and The Giant Peach and turned on the TV, which seemed to be playing Family Guy. He looked away from the screen as Dallon sat down, watching as Dallon yawned, eyes fluttering.

“You should sleep,” Frank told him, sounding serious. “Take a nap.”

“Oh, I’m alright,” Dallon said with another yawn. “Just a bit sleepy.”

Frank seemed fairly skeptical, but turned back to the television. By the time the episode was over, Dallon had fallen asleep. Frank grabbed a blanket from the top of the couch and tugged it over Dallon with care. He then turned back to the TV to watch some Rick and Morty.

\----

Pete rolled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair and pulling on a shirt. He walked down the hall to the bathroom to brush his teeth, then headed for the stairs. He saw Josh on his way to the kitchen and mumbled a sleepy greeting.

“Who’s makin’ breakfast today?” Josh asked him, in an equally zombie-like state.

“Every man for himself,” Pete replied, yawning. “Patty’s probably gonna make waffles, though.”

“Mm. When?”

“Uh… Maybe 10? So in ‘n hour, about.”

“Sick,” Josh nodded. He rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes. “Frank and Dallon are watching cartoons, I think. Wanna go join?”

“Fuck yeah,” Pete said. “I hope it’s The Simpsons.”

They made their way to the living room, where Dallon was still passed out on the couch and Frank was staring raptly at the TV.

“Bob’s Burgers. Nice,” Pete said, plopping down beside Frank. “Not The Simpsons, but still acceptable.”

Josh sat down and stole a bit of Dallon’s blanket. Dallon shifted, but didn’t wake. Nobody moved until Mikey poked his head in an hour later to announce that Patrick had made waffles and blueberry pancakes and to come quick because Brendon said he’d eat them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Guess who's coming home next chapter?!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... <3


	16. Of Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to go get Spencer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

It was nearly 12:30 when Dallon finally stirred and opened his eyes. A blue blanket was draped across him, and he was… on the couch? 

“Good afternoon, sleepy Dal,” said Pete from the doorway. Dallon rubbed his face, utterly confused.

“What day is it?” he finally asked.

“Monday,” Pete told him. “Twelve twenty-six pm. Spencer comes home today.”

“Shoot!” Dallon exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late!”

“It’s okay,” said Pete gently. “There’s a half hour before it’s time to go pick up Spence, that’s enough time to get ready.”

Dallon sighed, nodding. “You’re right. Thanks, Pete.”

“‘Course. Go change out of you pj’s, I’ll toast you a bagel for lunch. Even I can’t fuck up a bagel.”

“Never underestimate your talents, Petey,” Dallon grinned.

Pete blew him a kiss with his middle finger, and Dallon pretended to be horribly affronted as he headed for the stairs. He passed Mikey in the hall and stopped quickly.

“How’s your brother, Mikes?”

“He’s better this morning,” Mikey offered a tiny smile. “He’s helping Tyler and Brendon with the song for Spencer.”

“Good. How would you like to come with me to pick up Spencer?”

Mikey tilted his head to the side as he thought. “Can I?”

“Of course!”

“Okay, y-yes please.”

“Great! We leave in half an hour. I’m going to get dressed properly and then have a bite to eat. Pete’s toasting bagels, why don’t you ask if he’ll make one for you?”

Mikey nodded and scurried off down the stairs. Dallon headed into his room, tugging on a clean shirt and pants. He ran his fingers through his hair and dabbed a bit of concealer beneath his eyes to hide the bags. He didn’t want the boys worrying about him. Satisfied, he hurried back downstairs and took the warm bagel Pete handed him.

“Thank you, Pete!” He headed for the dining room and sat down next to Mikey, who was downing his own bagel so fast that it seemed to vanish instantly.

“I’ll never understand how you boys do that,” Dallon said, taking a bite and chewing slowly. Mikey looked nervous and opened his mouth a few times before speaking.

“You wouldn’t get it; you’re too old,” the boy said, all in one breath. He clapped a hand over his mouth and waited for Dallon’s reaction. Dallon looked at him a moment, then began to laugh so hard he nearly choked on his bagel.  
Patrick and Brendon appeared in the doorway, Patrick looking concerned, Brendon grinning widely.

“I think our little Mikey just made his first old-joke,” Brendon announced. “I could not be fucking prouder.”

Patrick took Dallon’s bagel from his hands and put it on his plate, then patted his back gently. 

“Ohmygoodness,” Dallon wheezed after a minute. “That was amazing. Mikey, I’m very proud.”

Mikey looked from Dallon to Brendon to Patrick, then gave them all a huge smile. Dallon returned it, then continued to eat his bagel.

“I’m gonna go tell Gee about how awesome his little brother is,” Brendon announced. Patrick gave Mikey a high-five, then headed to the kitchen to help his boyfriend clean. 

“Alright, time for us to go,” Dallon announced upon finishing his bagel. As they were putting on their coats, Brendon skidded down the hall and stopped in front of them. 

“Can I come too? Please please please-”

“Okay, B. Get your shoes and coat on,” Dallon told him. Brendon grabbed Gerard’s left shoe, Josh’s right, and Ryan’s jacket, put them on, and followed Dallon and Mikey out to the car. 

\-----

When Dallon and the two boys walked in through the main entrance of the hospital, Spencer jumped up from his seat and ran to hug them. Dallon held him close first, resting his chin on Spencer’s head. Then he was wrapped in Brendon’s embrace, rocked from foot to foot. Finally, he scooped up Mikey and squeezed the boy tight.

“It feels like ages since I’ve seen you guys,” Spencer sighed, putting Mikey down. Brendon nodded in agreement.

“Let’s check you out of here and head home,” Dallon said, heading for the front desk. The boys hung back as Dallon dealt   
with the discharge paperwork. 

“Are you boys brothers?” a lady asked them. “Or friends?”

Brendon and Spencer looked at each other. They never really knew what to tell people. They were brothers, but not blood brothers… So friends? But Dallon had adopted them both, so wouldn’t they still be brothers? Luckily, they were saved the explanation.

“Brothers,” Mikey told the lady firmly. “Our dad’s over there.”

“I thought so,” she said. “Your reunion was very touching.”

Brendon smiled at her politely. He took Mikey’s hand, wrapped his other arm around Spencer, and led them over to where Dallon was finishing up.

“Thank you, sir,” he said to the nurse at the desk, who nodded warmly and wished Dallon a good afternoon. The boys   
chattered happily as they headed out into the parking lot, Mikey gripping one of Brendon’s hands and one of Spencer’s.   
Dallon watched them with a smile. He noticed that Mikey’s clothes looked a bit small and made a mental note to get some bigger ones. Boy, the kid grew fast. He was going to be tall when he got older, Dallon figured. 

“...and then I told Dallon he wouldn’t get it because he was too old, and he started laughing really hard!” Mikey was telling Spencer when Dallon caught up to the trio.

“It was pretty funny,” Brendon added. “I was so proud…” he held a hand to his heart and looked off into the distance.

Mikey giggled at this, a sheepish grin on his face. 

“I wish I could’ve seen it,” said Spencer. “Sounds like a pretty great moment to me!”

“I laughed quite hard,” Dallon admitted. “I’m sure somebody will tell me I’m old again soon, don’t worry.”

“Maybe it’ll be me,” Spencer said thoughtfully. “I’ll find my moment.”

“I’m sure you will,” Dallon told him. “Everybody does. Mikey found his moment to tell me I’m old. Even Gerard found his moment.”

“Gerard called you old?” Brendon looked excited. “When?!”

“We were in the car, I believe. Driving home from his doctor’s appointment. I was very proud.”

“Wow,” Brendon nodded. “The Way bros are really out to get you, Dal!”

“Yeah, better watch out,” Spencer teased. Dallon looked mock-terrified. 

“Oh dear me! I’d best be running!” Dallon rushed toward the car, arms flailing. Mikey shrieked with laughter, having never seen anything funnier than a human giraffe awkwardly flapping away. Spencer was cackling as well, doubled in half almost like he was in pain. Brendon wiped tears of hilarity from his eyes. The boys piled into the car, joy bubbling up like a fountain. Spencer was coming home, he was okay. Invincible, in that moment. They wore their smiles like shining armor; nothing could take them down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this isn't longer, I just couldn't write much this week. I'd tell you the next chapter won't be so short, but I don't know. Depends on how my brain's doing, I guess! On the upside, the boys will play The Song for Spencer in the next chapter... so there's that to look forward to! My apologies for being such a mess, I hope you're all doing okay.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... xo


	17. Happiness and Minor Plot Turns?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle your seat belts, folks! It's a long one! Starts out a party and ends... oh gosh who knows... I suppose you'll find out :D
> 
> (You finally get to hear ((see?)) the song! It's just a mashup of emo-ness, really)  
> (It's hard to write singing? Who knew?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his early-to-mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Spencer was met with a chorus of squeals and cheers when he stepped through the door, everyone crowding around to hug him and welcome him home.

“Give him room to breathe,” Dallon scolded lightly. The boys stepped back a bit, loud and enthusiastic as ever.

“We have a surprise for you, Spence!” said Ryan with a grin. “C’mon!”

Spencer kicked off his shoes and followed everyone into the living room, where an array of guitars and basses were strewn across the couch. A keyboard and drumset sat by the TV. Spencer looked around, his face lighting up.

“Sit there, on the couch,” Patrick instructed as the boys scooped up their instruments. “We wrote a song for you!”

Spencer covered his mouth with his hand and watched as everyone got in place.

“One-two-three-four,” Pete muttered, and everyone began to play as Brendon sung. It was surprisingly cohesive for the amount of people, Spencer thought.

“This is gospel for the fallen ones,  
Locked away in permanent slumber.  
Assembling their philosophies,  
From pieces of broken memories…”

Tyler stepped up, and Brendon took his place at the keyboard.

“Friend, please remove your hands from  
Over your eyes for me,  
I know you want to leave but  
Friend, please don't take your life away from me.”

Gerard joined in, layering some vocals on top of Tyler’s.

“If I could be with you tonight  
I would sing you to sleep  
'Cause I just won't let go 'til we both see the light  
Never let them take the light behind your eyes.”

Tyler and Gerard sang together now, their voices melding together.

“One day I’ll lose this fight  
As we fade in the dark  
Just remember you will always burn as bright  
And I have nothing else left to say  
But I will listen to you all day.”

Brendon let Tyler have the keyboard again, moving to stand beside Gerard.

“‘Cause these words are knives and often leave scars,  
The fear of falling apart.  
And truth be told, I never was yours,  
The fear, the fear of falling apart.”

The three frontmen took a bow, Brendon flourishing his hands with grace.  
Dallon and Spencer applauded wildly; Spencer was trying his best not to cry.

“Thank you so much, guys,” he said, almost choking on his words. “That was… really cool.”

“I’m glad you liked it!” Josh grinned at him. “I hope I did the drums justice.”

“You were great, man!” Spencer replied. “I’m proud.”

“I didn’t mess up!” Frank squealed. “I did it!”

Mikey offered him a high five and a smile. Gerard hugged his little brother, then kissed Frank’s cheek. Pete went around fist-bumping everyone, and Brendon hugged Spencer so hard he lost his breath.

“Good work, boys,” Dallon announced. “A fabulous collaboration if I’ve ever seen one.”

Morale was high as everyone returned their instruments to the music room. Spencer helped Josh disassemble the drumset, handing different parts to whoever wasn’t carrying anything. Patrick whispered something to Frank, who bounced up and down and ran to the kitchen. Patrick followed him, helping him light the candles (arranged in a smiley face) on the cake. Frank carried it to the table in the dining room, turned off the lights so the candles shone bright, and hurtled back to the living room.

“Spencer Spencer I made you something c’mon wanna see wanna see?”

Spencer laughed at the pogo stick of a kid in front of him.

“I think Brendon’s rubbing off on you,” he said, getting to his feet. “Okay, show me!”

Frank dragged him into the dining room, grinning like a maniac.

“Cake!!!!”

“Cake! Thank you, Frank, it looks delicious!” Spencer blew out the candles and sat down as Patrick cut the cake into pieces. Ryan poked his head in.

“Ooh, cake! GUYS! CAKE TIME!!”

The rest of the boys piled into the room, plopping down around the table and awaiting their slice. When each person had a piece, Spencer took his first bite. 

“Mm! I’ve missed this. Hospital food’s kinda gross.”

Josh nodded knowingly. “To good food,” he said, raising his fork.

“To good food,” the others echoed.

\----

After cake, everyone scattered across the house to do various chores and hang out. Spencer headed to his room. He’d missed it, all the posters and his fluffy rug and comfy bed. He grabbed an unread book from the top of his dresser and flopped down on said comfy bed.

“Um… Sp-Spencer?” said a small voice from the doorway. Spencer looked up. It was Mikey.

“Hey Mikey, what’s up?”

Mikey shrugged, shifting from foot to foot.

“Want to come in?” Spencer put down his book and patted the bed beside him. Mikey came over and sat down.

“I’m really glad you’re home,” Mikey whispered, his voice tinier than ever.

“Me too,” Spencer said, nodding. “I missed everyone.”

“C-can I hug you?”

“Of course.” Spencer held out his arms, and Mikey fell into them gratefully. His shoulders shook as he inhaled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked softly.

Mike shook his head. “I don’t wanna… y’know… you just g-got home. I shouldn’t say nothing.”

“You can always talk about things that are bothering you,” Spencer told him. Mikey hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“It… it was really scary.”

Spencer nodded. “I’m so sorry, Mikey. That was my fault.”

“No no no,” Mikey swallowed a sob. “No, not your fault.”

“You saved my life. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“You did,” Spencer said. “So thank you.”

“There was a lot of blood,” Mikey choked, his eyes closed.

“Hey, look at me. I’m right here. I’m okay.”

Mikey forced his eyes open, blinking away tears.

“I don’t… I -um-”

“What is it?” Spencer asked gently.

“It’s stupid,” Mikey said.

“I’m sure it’s not, Mikes.”

“I… okay. Um… Am I dreaming?”

“No,” Spencer said, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“Are you a ghost?”

“Nope, I’m alive.”

“I’m… I’m not making you up? You’re not dead?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I…” Mikey’s voice faltered. “I’m not crazy?”

“No, Mikey. I’m real and I’m right here,” said Spencer soothingly. 

“H-how do I know?” Mikey crumpled, biting back tears. Spencer hugged him tightly, then took his hand.

“Put your hand on my wrist, right here,” Spencer told him, and Mikey complied. “Do you feel that?”

Mikey nodded slowly.

“That’s my pulse. It means my heart’s beating and I’m alive.”

“I have one too?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer said, moving Mikey’s fingers to his own wrist. “See?”

“Okay,” Mikey breathed. “Can I feel yours again?”

Spencer offered Mikey his wrist, and Mikey pressed his fingers to it.

“You’re real.”

“I’m real,” Spencer confirmed. Mikey relaxed a bit, curling into Spencer’s side.

“Hey, do you want me to read to you?” Spencer asked after a few minutes. Mikey nodded, so Spencer picked up his book and   
began to read aloud. After nearly fifteen minutes, Mikey’s eyes fluttered shut. Spencer looked down at the boy fondly and kept on reading. He felt a twinge of guilt, but tried to shake it off. The poor kid. Spencer made a mental note to talk to Dallon about all this. Maybe Sarah, too. She was the social worker, after all. Mikey stirred a bit, grabbing a handful of Spencer’s shirt and burying his face in Spencer’s shoulder, but didn’t seem to wake.

Spencer read until his voice grew hoarse, and then continued on still. At least this was something to do. Suddenly he heard footsteps dashing down the hall, and Frank skidded to a halt in the door.

“Spence have you seen- oh, he’s with you. We’ve been looking everywhere! Is he okay?”

“He’s alright,” Spencer said quietly. “But tell Gerard not to worry, I know he gets anxious.”

Frank nodded, his face solemn. “Okay. Thanks, Spencer.”

“‘Course.” 

Frank left, and Spencer found his place on the page and resumed his reading. He carried on until dinner, when he placed the book on the table by his bed and gently nudged Mikey.

“Dinner, Mikes.”

Mikey yawned, his glasses askew. He blinked slowly at Spencer, barely awake.

“Time for dinner,” Spencer repeated gently. Mikey rubbed his eyes, fixed his glasses, and nodded. Spencer took his hand and helped him up, then led him downstairs to the dining room.

“Mikes,” Gerard exhaled, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders before they sat down. “Okay?”

“Tired,” Mikey replied. “Tell you ‘bout it later.”

Gerard nodded, taking a seat and gesturing for Mikey to do so as well. Ryan and Tyler emerged from the kitchen carrying trays of homemade pizza, and the boys cheered. Pizza night was a long-standing favorite. 

“Wait, where’s Dallon?” asked Ryan, scanning the room.

“Sleeping,” said Josh. “I didn’t want to wake him up earlier.”

Pete nodded. “He should sleep more, damn hypocrite.”

“That’s what I told him!” Frank said emphatically.

“I’ll go get him,” Brendon offered, already halfway into the hall. Tyler and Ryan brought out the rest of the pizza and sat down. Brendon reappeared a minute later, alone.

“Dallon’s not feeling well,” he said, frowning. “He said to eat without him.”

“Is he alright?” Patrick looked worried.

“I hope so,” Brendon sighed. He was oddly un-bouncy.

“Let’s eat, I guess?” mumbled Pete, his voice halfhearted.

“I guess,” Tyler said with a nod. Everyone grabbed a couple slices of pizza each and began to eat, mostly lacking the usual   
gusto. 

“Can someone take me to the bookstore tomorrow?” Frank asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Sure,” Josh said. “Any time in particular?”

“After lunch?”

“Sounds good.”

“Can I come?” asked Mikey.

“‘Course, Mikes,” Frank answered. “I was just gonna ask. How ‘bout you, Gee?”

Gerard nodded. “That’d be cool.”

“Great,” Josh said. “Any other takers? One seat left in the car.”

“I’ll come,” Tyler replied. “I finished All My Sons, I’d like to see if they have anything else by Arthur Miller.”

“Was it good?” Ryan asked, and Tyler nodded.

“You can borrow it if you’d like.”

“Cool, thanks!”

“Ry, can I have it after you?” Patrick inquired. “It sounds interesting.”

“O’ course,” Ryan mumbled around his pizza.

“Spencer read me some of a book earlier,” Mikey offered. “I can’t remember what it was called, but it was good.”

“It’s called ‘Where The Blind Horse Sings’,” said Spencer with a smile. “It’s about an animal shelter.”

“Didn’t the boy from that farm we visited for Mikey’s birthday recommend it?” Pete asked. “The one with blue hair?”

“The farm didn’t have blue hair,” Frank said, confused. “Oh, wait… The boy.”

“Yeah, he did,” Spencer replied to Pete. They all began talking about different books they had or wanted to read, and time   
seemed to pass a bit faster. It was odd, though, without Dallon. His empty seat was like a void in the room. Everyone skirted around it, not wanting to be sucked in. After they finished the pizzas, Pete, Gerard, and Frank did the dishes while several of the others elected to watch tv. Tyler and Josh headed up to Dallon’s room instead.

“Dal?” Josh said quietly, knocking on the doorframe. Dallon was curled on the bed, covered entirely by blankets.

“Josh? Is everything alright?” Dallon asked, his voice muffled and cracking a bit.

“We were actually going to ask that to you,” said Tyler. “Can we come in?”

Dallon sat up, finally emerging from his blanket cocoon. “Sure. I’m not contagious, if that’s what you were worried about,” he tried for a smile.

“What do you have?” asked Josh worriedly. “Should you see a doctor?”

Dallon sighed, rubbing his face. “I'm alright.”

“Do you know what you have?” Tyler repeated Josh’s first question. Dallon looked away.

“Dal?”

“I… You know how most of us take meds.”

The boys nodded.

“I -ah- I haven’t been taking mine regularly with all that’s been going on, then I ran out a couple days ago… I should’ve gone to get more, but…” Dallon trailed off with a shrug and an attempt at a smile. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“We have to worry,” Josh argued. “Just like you worry about us.”

“What can we do?” asked Tyler. “Should we pick up more meds from the all-night pharmacy?”

“I’ll have to refill my prescription,” Dallon said. He took a deep breath, his shoulders trembling a bit. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Aren’t you two missing cartoons?”

“That doesn’t matter, Dal,” Josh protested. Dallon closed his eyes for a moment, then winced like he’d seen something terrible and quickly opened them. 

“You boys should probably go,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to-”

He broke off with a sharp breath and shook his head to clear it.

“Dal?”

“Don’t worry,” he managed. “Go watch cartoons, yeah?”

“We don’t want to leave if you’re not relatively okay, and you seem pretty un-okay,” Tyler pointed out. Dallon seemed to struggle for air so he could reply, and came up with nothing. Josh hurried over and sat down on the bed, and Tyler followed.

“M’ fine,” Dallon said, his voice thin. “Really.” He kept his head down, refusing to meet their eyes.

“Sure,” Josh said, rolling his eyes.

“How about a hug?” asked Tyler. Dallon forced himself to shake his head.

“S’alright. You-” he paused for breath. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“You deal with us, Dal,” Tyler told him. “We all help each other out. So, hug?”

Dallon relented, nodding slowly. The boys sandwiched him between the two of them, Tyler taking Dallon’s hand and Josh rubbing his back.

“Wanna talk about it?” Josh asked quietly.

“I shouldn’t,” whispered Dallon.

“How about you call Sarah?” Tyler suggested. “You can talk to her and I’m sure she can refill your prescription.”

“Good idea, Ty,” Josh nodded. “Dal, will you call her now?”

“Okay,” said Dallon softly. Tyler grabbed the phone, punched in Sarah’s number (he’d memorised it for emergencies) and handed it to Dallon.

“You two should probably go,” Dallon told them as the phone rang. “Thank you for being so helpful.”

“No problem. Feel better, Dal,” Josh said. He and Tyler left the room, closing the door partway behind them. They stood   
outside just until Sarah picked up, then headed downstairs to watch tv.

“Is Dallon okay?” Gerard asked quietly.

“He’s alright,” Tyler replied. “He doesn’t want us to worry.”

“Typical,” Spencer said, shaking his head. “He knows we’ll worry no matter what.”

Patrick nodded in agreement. “It’s kind of our job.”

“Yeah,” Mikey spoke up. “He’s our dad. We’ve gotta make sure he’s okay.”

“True-fucking-that,” said Brendon.

“Don’t say the f-word in front of Mikey,” Ryan scolded. “Mikes, you heard nothing.”

Gerard smiled a bit at this. Like his brother hadn’t heard it all. The commercial break ended just then, and everyone turned   
their attention back to the screen.

“Fuck, I forgot to pee during the break!” Frank exclaimed. “Now I gotta wait!”

“Go really quick, we’ll tell you what you miss,” Pete told him. “And watch your mouth, mister.”

“Shit, sorry,” Frank said, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Wait, fuck! No!”

“Keep working at it, you’ll get there,” said Josh fondly. “Now hurry!”

Frank ran down the hall, and he was just about the step into the bathroom when he heard Dallon’s voice drifting down the stairs. It almost sounded like he was… crying? Frank knew he shouldn’t listen in. But he always was terrible at resisting temptation. He tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs and sat down, straining to hear Dallon.

“...I’m not… I’m not good enough for them, Sarah! I failed as a father the first time around, and now… now…” Frank heard Dallon trying to choke back sobs. “I’m useless. I’m terrible. Who was I to think I could do anything?”

Dallon paused, Frank assumed Sarah was talking.

“Every time I close my eyes, Sarah.” Dallon’s voice was low now; Frank could barely hear it. “I see him. I see the blood, all of it.”

Another pause.

“I know. I just… never mind. You’re right. Thank you.”

Dallon exchanged a few more words with Sarah too softly for Frank to make out, then hung up. Frank sat on the stairs frozen for a moment, processing what he’d just heard. After several minutes, he finally got to his feet and stepped forward only to walk into something. He looked up. It was, in fact, a someone, not a something. Tyler raised an eyebrow at Frank, and that was all Frank needed to take off. But Tyler was faster, grabbing the boy’s arm before he could get past him. Frank snarled at Tyler and punched and kicked in attempt to get free. Tyler didn’t budge, not even when one of Frank’s fists hit his face.

“FUCK YOU!” Frank screamed. “YOU FUCKING SHIT! I HATE YOU, GODDAMN BITCH-ASS MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Stop that,” Tyler said, his voice biting like Frank had never heard before. Frank stopped.

“Frank, I’m not going to yell at you. I’m not going to hurt you or punish you. Okay?” Tyler sounded a bit sad and a bit tired now.

“Uh… ‘kay.” Frank was puzzled. “What d’you want?”

“First, I was going to tell you that eavesdropping isn’t the most polite of things, but I think you know that. What you heard was very personal. Don’t go around repeating it, please.” Tyler looked at Frank, who nodded solemnly. “Good. Second, I think you might need to work on not running away from your problems. You tend to do that in these situations. Do you think that’s fair to say?”

“Yeah,” Frank replied, abashed.

“Alright,” said Tyler, heading for the stairs to go check on Dallon.

“W-wait! Tyler!” 

Tyler turned around to look at Frank.

“I’m -um- I’m sorry. Um… for yelling. I didn’t mean it.”

“Thank you, Frank. I’m glad you didn’t mean it.” Tyler gave Frank a small smile before turning back up the stairs. He rubbed his cheek where Frank had hit him. The boy was surprisingly strong for his size; Tyler figured he’d have a bruise the next day. He found Dallon sitting on the bed, one hand holding the phone loosely and the other tangled in his hair. He looked up when Tyler appeared in the doorway.

“Was that Frank?” he asked quietly. “Everything okay?”

Tyler nodded. “S’fine. I’ll tell you some other time. Is Sarah getting your meds refilled?”

“She said she’ll bring them in the morning,” Dallon said in reply.

“Good. Is there anything else you need?”

“I’ll be alright. Thanks, Ty.”

“Sure. Feel better, I love you.”

\-----

“Okay, guys. Time to go to bed,” Brendon announced, much to the shock of the others. He usually begged for one more episode, which turned into at least three.

“Who the fuck are you and what did you do to Brendon?” Pete asked.

“Language!” Patrick hissed, covering Mikey’s ears.

“Seriously. Dallon would usually be telling us to go brush our teeth, and as much as I love to argue with him, he’s not down here to boss us around. So we should probably do it,” said Brendon.

“Decent logic,” Spencer agreed, pulling himself to his feet. “We should take our meds, too. Dal would be reminding us to do that.”

“Right,” Ryan nodded. Josh turned off the tv, and everyone got up and headed for the stairs. Tyler stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water, as did Gerard.

“What happened to your face?” Gerard asked, concerned.

“Oh, nothing,” Tyler said.

“Did Frank do it?”

“Yeah, Frank did it,” Tyler admitted with a sigh. “It’s probably my fault. He didn’t mean it.”

“Did he apologize?”

“Not for hitting me. He said he was sorry for yelling, though.”

“That’s not right,” Gerard frowned. “I’ll tell him to apologize.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Tyler. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Just ‘cause he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t see his flaws,” Gerard said seriously. “He hides behind his ego and it’s not okay sometimes. I’ll get him to apologize.”

“Alright, then.” Tyler tousled Gerard’s long, messy hair. “Thanks, Mr. Bird’s Nest.”

Gerard tossed his hair and smiled. “Mine’s not as bad as Frank’s.”

“Fair,” Tyler laughed a bit. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

\-----

Sure enough, Frank appeared in Tyler’s doorway just as Tyler was plugging in his phone and getting ready to sleep.

“Um… Tyler?”

“What’s up, Frank?”

“I’m sorry. For hitting you. Like… I’m really sorry…” Frank wiped his eyes furiously, hiding any hint of tears. “‘Cause I know what it’s like to get hit and I hit you and-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tyler said. He walked over and hugged Frank, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. (Gerard was right, Frank’s hair was messier.) “Thank you for apologizing. Go get some sleep, alright?”

Frank nodded, heading down the hall toward his room. But for some reason, instead of turning, he kept walking until he reached Spencer’s.

“Oh, hey Frank. Is everything alright?” Spencer asked curiously.

“Uh… I’m really glad you’re back,” Frank mumbled. “We missed you and -uh- I was wondering if you can help me with something.”

“What is it?”

“You write good, right? I saw a grocery list on the ‘frigerator last month and the writing was real pretty and Brendon said you did it.”

“Yes, my handwriting is neat,” Spencer nodded.

“Well… My writing is real bad and I want to write something and I wondered if you can help me?”

“Sure thing,” Spencer said. “Is it short?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Can I tell you what to write and then copy yours so I get the letters right?”

“Sounds good.” Spencer found a couple blank pieces of paper and a pencil. “What should I write?”

“Uh… ‘Dear Dallon, you’re amazing and really cool and nice. Thank you very much for saving me ‘cause I’d probably be dead if I wasn’t here. I love you a lot and you’re the best dad ever. From Frank. PS: you’re not that old.’”

Spencer smiled as he finished writing, then passed the pencil to Frank.

“Here, your turn.”

Frank painstakingly copied down every word, sticking out his tongue in concentration. The letters were a bit crooked and shaky here and there, but it was pretty legible.

“Great job!” Spencer gave Frank a high-five. “Are you going to go give it to him?”

Frank nodded. “Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re welcome. Good night, bud.”

\------

Frank paused a moment before entering Dallon’s room, peeking in first. Dallon looked exhausted, but unwilling to fall asleep. He looked up when Frank walked in, attempting to fix his hair and straightening his glasses.

“Frank? Is something wrong?”

Frank shook his head, handed Dallon the piece of paper, and silently left. He headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth, then finally went to his room to go to sleep. The last thing he expected was to find Dallon sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting. He cautiously sat down and wrapped his arms around Dallon.

“Thank you, Frank,” Dallon’s voice was a bit hoarse around the edges, like he’d been crying.

“Uh… I think it should be the other way ‘round,” Frank said. “You’re the one who helps us and shit.”

“You boys help me more than you could ever imagine,” Dallon replied. “You all give me something to live for.”

Frank was silent for a moment. “I love you,” he finally said. “Thanks for… uh… giving me a chance. When nobody else did. I don’t blame ‘em, I’m a bad kid.”

“You’re not a bad kid, Frank. You’re a wonderful kid who’s been through bad things.”

“I… I hit Tyler,” Frank whimpered. “I didn’t mean to, I got angry and I just did it. I’m awful.”

“You’re not awful. I’m awful. I didn’t even notice Sp-” Dallon covered his mouth and turned his head away. He took a few deep breaths before speaking again. “We all make mistakes. We’ll be okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Frank.

“Yeah,” Frank said, sniffling a bit. “I guess.”

Dallon sighed. “We should go to bed, shouldn’t we?”

“Prob’ly,” Frank nodded. He climbed under the blankets and let Dallon pull them up to his chin.

“Good night, Frank. Thank you for the letter you wrote. It means a lot to me.”

“G’night,” Frank replied, his eyes already beginning to flutter shut. “‘Love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is appreciated. More to come... xo


	18. The Demon Child and the Bookstore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a trip to the bookstore! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his early-to-mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

The air felt lighter the next morning. Perhaps that was because Patrick and Josh made special chocolate-chip pancakes to celebrate Spencer’s first morning back home, or maybe it was because Sarah brought her dogs when she stopped by to give Dallon his meds. On top of all that, Frank, Gerard, and Mikey were eagerly awaiting their trip to the bookstore. When 12:30 came around, they were in the hall pulling on shoes and coats and rushing out the door before Tyler and Josh could put their lunch plates in the kitchen.

“Hurry up!” Frank called, bouncing up and down in the driveway.

“They can’t hear you, goof,” Gerard told him fondly. Frank pulled an exaggerated frown and ran up to the porch, pulling the  
front door open.

“Hurry up!” he screeched, grinning when Ryan poked his head out of the living room and frowned at him. Tyler made his way to the door, Josh right behind him.

“We’re coming,” Josh said, chuckling a bit. “God, you sounded like some sort of demon.”

“Don’t bring the lord in to this,” Tyler mock-scolded. “A demon is no laughing matter. The power of Christ compels you!”

Frank burst into laughter, nearly falling down the front steps.

“Watch out, demon-child!” Josh told him. He just laughed harder.

“He does a little bit sound like a demon when he laughs,” Mikey said seriously. “We should watch out.”

“Yeah, he only ever wears black, too… Frank’s true identity is revealed!” Gerard pretended to faint over the hood of the car.

“Meow,” Frank said. “Boo!”

“Nice try, buddy,” Tyler said. “I think you were looking for ‘rawr’.”

“Same thing,” Frank giggled. “A meow is just a baby rawr.”

“I think that’s the funniest and truest thing I’ve heard in a long time,” Gerard wheezed. “A meow is just a baby rawr.”

“Where does ‘hiss’ come in to play?” Josh scratched his chin. “Is it bigger or smaller than ‘meow’?”

“Bigger,” Mikey said. “But smaller than a rawr.”

“Makes sense,” Tyler nodded. “Alright, enough demons. Let’s get in the car.”

\-----

“Josh, Tyler! I haven’t seen you guys in ages!”

“Hey, Mark!” Tyler greeted the young man behind the counter with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Same old. How about you two? And who’re these kiddos?” Mark asked, gesturing to Frank, Gerard, and Mikey.

“Mikey, Frank, and Gerard,” Josh introduced them each in turn. “This is Mark.”

“Hi!” Frank exclaimed. 

“Nice to meet you,” Gerard nodded politely. Mikey waved and hid behind his brother, a bit shy.

“Good to meet you all too,” Mark replied with a jovial grin. “How can I help you guys today?”

“I wanted -uh- The FBG by Road Doll,” Frank said.

“He means The BFG,” said Gerard, giggling a bit.

“Don’t laugh,” Frank looked somewhat wounded. Mikey let out a little snicker at his indignance. 

“It was a nice try, kid,” Josh told Frank sympathetically. “Brendon called Burger King ‘Chicken Bro’ one time if it makes you feel any better.”

“He also fell down the stairs and thought he went to hell,” Tyler added. “That was pretty great.”

“Oh yeah,” Josh grinned at the memory. “Ryan found him and he thought Ryan was the devil and Ryan didn’t speak to him for three days.”

“Really?” Mikey covered his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Gerard said, nodding.

“That was one of the funniest stories I’ve heard, and I work in retail,” Mark announced. “I hear a lot… Anyways, we do have The BFG. It’s down the fourth aisle on the left.”

Frank, Mikey, and Gerard headed off to find it and browse around, leaving Tyler and Josh by the front desk.

“Are you two looking for anything?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, I was actually wondering if you had any other books by Arthur Miller,” Tyler said. “I finished All My Sons and really  
enjoyed it.”

“Ah, yes. We have Death of a Salesman, and one other play, I believe. Aisle Eleven, top shelf on the right.”

“Great, thanks!” Tyler scurried away to take a look.

“How’s life been treating you, pal?” Mark asked Josh after a moment.

Josh sighed, shaking his head. “It’s been crazy. Like… oh, man.”

“I’ve got a set of ears and plenty of time if you want to talk,” Mark said with sympathy.

“You don’t mind?”

“‘Course not. Here, come sit down.”

Josh sat, twiddled his thumbs a minute, then began to talk. About Spencer, Mikey, Dallon, the flashbacks he can never get rid of, how lucky he is to have Tyler, how anxious he is sometimes… And Mark listened the whole time, nodding and offering comfort when needed.

“Sounds like quite the wild ride,” Mark said gently after Josh had been silent for a couple minutes. “I admire you a lot, y’know. You’ve got more courage than anyone I’ve met.”

Josh waved it off, shaking his head, but Mark placed a hand on his arm.

“I’m not kidding. And look, if you ever need to get away for a little bit, drop by the store, okay? You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks, man,” Josh said quietly. They stood up and Mark gave him a quick hug before he headed off to find the others. The bookstore wasn’t huge, but it certainly wasn’t tiny, especially for being in the middle of nowhere. Frank and Gerard were sitting smack in the middle of aisle four, poring over a book about playing guitar for beginners. Tyler was a couple aisles down, holding ‘Death of a Salesman’ by Arthur Miller in one hand and ‘Haroun and the Sea of Stories’ by Salman Rushdie in the other. He was reading the back of the latter, seemingly trying to decide if he should buy it. Josh continued on, now just searching for Mikey.

“Mikes?” he called, peering down aisles as he went. Mikey poked his head out from the very last one, looking tiny among the tall shelves. “What’re you doing?”

“I was -um- I want to buy a book for Dallon and I don’t know how to choose one.”

“You know what? I heard him talking a while back about how he used to love books by Charles Dickens and he wants to read some more. How about you pick out one of those?”

Mikey nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks, Josh! Also, I… no, never mind.”

“What is it?”

“Um… Do you think Dallon would be angry if I called him dad? ‘Cause he’s who I think of as my dad.”

“I think Dallon would be the opposite of angry. He would be really touched.”

“For real?”

“Definitely,” Josh said firmly. “Now, let’s go find a good Charles Dickens book for him.”

\-----

Dallon had taken a shower and was feeling slightly more like himself by afternoon. He spent some time in his office catching up on paperwork and even watched part of Finding Dory with Pete and Patrick. He was back in his room when Spencer knocked on the doorframe and asked if he could come in.

“Of course,” Dallon had said, and there they were. 

“This is all my fault,” Spencer finally sighed, and Dallon shook his head vigorously.

“That’s not true. I think Mikey said it best that one time, ‘life happens’. Life happens, we’re all hanging in there, we have each other, and that’s what counts. Please don’t blame yourself for all this.”

“It’s hard.”

Dallon nodded. “Nobody’s saying it’s easy. I love you, Spence. You can do this. All of,” -Dallon gestured around widely- “this.”

“Thanks for believing in me.”

“I always have and always will.”

The hint of a smile toyed at the corner of Spencer’s mouth. “I actually wanted to talk about Mikey, too. I think he’s having a hard time dealing with… y’know. He asked if he was making me up, if I was really dead. He’s just so young, Dal.”

Dallon scrunched his eyebrows together, nodding slowly. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll call Sarah about it, and we can figure out how to help him.”

“I just want him to be okay, at least as okay as he can be. He’s just a kid, he deserves the world,” Spencer’s voice cracked a bit.

“And we’ll make sure he gets it. Again, thank you for talking to me about all of this. I’m sorry I haven’t been present much yesterday or today.”

“Life happens,” Spencer said with a little smile. “I guess you’re right, Mikey knows best.”

\----

The boys left the bookstore satisfied, Tyler with his new Arthur Miller book, Mikey carrying the book he and Josh picked out for Dallon, Gerard with a comic book, and Frank carefully holding The BFG like he was afraid to break it. Frank tried to start reading in the car, but soon got a bit nauseous and decided against it. When they got home, he went straight to the living room and began to read on the couch. Mikey headed up to give Dallon his book, and Gerard elected to come along.

“Hello Mikey, Gee, how was the bookstore?” Dallon looked tired, but a bit more together than the previous night.

“Good,” Gerard smiled. “Frank got his book and I found a cool comic book.”

“That’s great, what have you got there, Mikey?”

“I got you a book,” Mikey stepped up and handed it to him, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

“A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens… Thank you! I’ve been wanting to go back and read Dickens’ books.”

“That’s what Josh said,” Mikey replied. “He helped me.”

“I’ll have to thank him, too,” said Dallon. “I’m glad you boys found the books you wanted.”

Mikey gave Dallon a hug and grin and scampered off to find Pete so they could practice bass, calling “I love you, Dad!” over his shoulder. Dallon looked so touched he might cry.

“He… he just…”

“You’re the best dad,” Gerard said seriously. “Uh… I also wanted to say thank you. I’ve been feeling better and I think the medicine is helping a lot. So… yeah. Thank you for helping me and Mikes.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better. I’ll always be here for you, okay? You and Mikey and everyone else.”

Gerard nodded and waved goodbye, heading downstairs to read next to Frank on the couch. Down the hall, Mikey watched as Pete showed him a few different chords, Brendon and Ryan playing guitar in the background. Patrick, Spencer, and Josh debated whether to make mashed potatoes or baked potatoes in the kitchen while Tyler sat on the counter with his book. (Spencer won with baked potatoes, Josh had sided with him after deciding it was easier.) 

Dallon sat on his bed, deep in thought. At last, he pulled out his laptop and quickly emailed Sarah. Then he began the paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one or two more chapters after this... I hope you've enjoyed it so far! I can probably post the next chapter early if people would like, just let me know. Thanks so much for reading, feedback would be appreciated! xo


	19. The Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, sweet ending to a long, not-so-sweet story. There might be one more chapter after this, an epilogue of sorts. I hope you've enjoyed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

It had taken Dallon several months, but he’d done it. All the papers were ready, everything was going to be approved… He gathered things together into two folders and headed up to Gerard and Mikey’s bedroom one morning after breakfast. (Slightly overcooked eggs, courtesy of Ryan). The boys always hung out and read books in their room after breakfast.

“Hi, dad!” Mikey greeted Dallon cheerfully when he entered. Gerard was too absorbed in his comic book to notice.

“I have a surprise for you two,” Dallon said, his eyes twinkling. Mikey seemed excited and poked his brother in the side. Gerard grumbled discontentedly, but put down his comic.

“Oh, hi!” he said, seeing Dallon for the first time.

“He has a surprise for us!” Mikey said, and Gerard sat up straighter. Dallon handed each boy a folder, and they looked at him in confusion.

“Go on, open them,” Dallon prompted, grinning. They did, and neither one of them spoke for a moment. Gerard clapped a hand over his mouth, carefully placed the folder on the bedside table, and jumped up to hug Dallon tightly. 

“Con… consent to… to… to adoption…” Mikey stumbled over his words as he read the title of the document. His brain seemed to be processing this, and his jaw dropped progressively wider as moments passed. He burst into tears and scrambled to hug Dallon along with his brother.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Gerard repeated, burying his face in Dallon’s shirt. Mikey seemed to be at a loss for words.

“You boys are okay with it?” Dallon asked tentatively, as if they might say no. Mikey wiped his eyes and looked up at Dallon.

“Fuck yeah,” the boy said seriously. Gerard laughed, nodding in agreement and sniffling a bit.

“Watch your language, young man!” Dallon exclaimed, looking overjoyed and shocked at the same time. “I don’t want to hear that from you again for at least four years.”

“Sorry, dad,” Mikey said, ducking his head. Dallon ruffled his hair playfully.

“You need a haircut, mister.”

“Gee needs one more,” Mikey argued, and Gerard shot him a dirty look.

“It’s my aesthetic.”

“What’s that mean?” Mikey looked confused.

“Uh… I’m not sure, actually. Ryan said it and it sounded fancy. Pa, what’s it mean?” Gerard asked, looking up at Dallon.

“Aesthetic… it means a certain style. Sometimes it’s a personal style, sometimes it’s more general,” Dallon answered thoughtfully. “And I think both of you need haircuts, and Frank as well. Maybe Spencer and Pete, too, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“What about me?” Frank asked, popping his head into the room. “I was walking by and I heard my name…”

“Dallon thinks we need haircuts,” Gerard said with a frown. Frank looked appalled.

“Fuck that!”

“Language!” Mikey said. “You’re not supposed to say fuck in front of me.”

“You just said it!” Frank giggled, and Mikey covered his mouth, eyes wide.

“Oops.”

Dallon sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “What will I do with you boys?”

“C’mon, you love us!” Gerard grinned. “You’re adopting us!”

“Really?!” Frank squealed. “That’s amazing!!! We have to throw you a party! I’ll make cake!”

“Are you adopting Frank, too?” Mikey asked, his eyebrows scrunched.

“Of course I will, if he wants me to,” Dallon replied warmly. “I have the papers together, we might just have to wait a bit. It’ll be easier to finalize your and Gerard’s papers together and then take care of Frank’s once that’s done.”

“You… you would adopt me?” Frank looked utterly floored.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I…” Frank was speechless for a moment. He proceeded to tackle-hug Dallon and then rocket off down the stairs, shouting to Patrick that they needed to bake at least two cakes immediately. Patrick seemed quite bemused, but followed Frank into the kitchen.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Dallon’s adopting Mikes and Gee and then me!” Frank squealed, dropping an egg and nearly breaking a couple bowls. Patrick hastily switched them out for plastic ones.

“That’s great!” he said, looking delighted at the news. “We’ll make the cakes extra-special!”

“With lots of icing?”

“Oh, you bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've all liked this, thank you so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated. If/how fast the epilogue gets posted will probably depend on if people would like to see one! Let me know.


	20. Epilogue Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue's turning out kinda long, so here's part one! Apologies for the delay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Mikey is 10, Gerard is 14, Frank is 15, and everyone else is about 16 or 17 (including Tyler). Dallon is in his late twenties to mid thirties. (He's like the dad, he adopted/fosters all the boys.)

Spencer yawned, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes just slightly. A patch of light was shining smack in the middle of his face, as it did every single morning. He hadn’t a clue why, out of all the places to shine, the sun had to choose his eyes. The gap in his curtains was impossibly small, what were the chances? He didn’t actually mind it, though. It was almost like the sun was saying “hey you, time to wake up!” ...he knew that sounded cheesy. So what?

It had been nearly a year since Mikey had found him in the bathtub that one night, but it felt like so much longer. His emotions were pretty stable now, thanks to his meds and Dallon and Sarah’s help. Mikey’s nightmares were fewer, maybe one every couple weeks instead of nearly every night. Dallon had given him a full-sized bass for his birthday, and he was growing fast enough that he could almost play it just as well as the kid-sized one. Gerard was happier than he’d ever been, devoting most of his time to drawing and making music with whoever felt like it (usually Frank and Mikey, sometimes Tyler or Brendon or Patrick). 

Tyler had begun volunteering at a physical therapy place, and Josh got a job at the bookstore thanks to Mark. Brendon and Pete had begged Dallon to let them teach Frank how to drive, and he finally relented when they both turned eighteen, given they didn’t go on any main roads. Patrick had taken over much of the cooking after Ryan nearly set the entire house on fire trying to make stir fry. Nobody complained, Patrick always made the best food, even though they had to do the cleaning since he did the cooking.

...Food. That reminded Spencer, he was hungry, and the smell of homemade scones was drifting tantalizingly up the stairs and into his room. He swore that Patrick used a fan to send the smell everywhere or something. And sure enough, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and-

“Spence!! Patrick made SCONES FOR BREAKFAST!!!” Mikey appeared in the doorway, bouncing up and down. “C’mon, hurry!”

Spencer laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes and letting Mikey drag him out of bed and down the stairs to the dining room, all the while babbling excitedly about how there were SCONES and they got to eat them for BREAKFAST. In Spencer’s opinion, his little brother Mikey was the brightest patch of sunshine there ever was. Gerard agreed.

“...so I was thinking of starting a youtube channel! Y’know, for makeup tutorials and stuff like that,” Ryan was telling Brendon and Dallon. (They were the only people awake enough to listen.) Gerard was holding a cup of coffee like it was his lifeblood, Patrick was still in the kitchen, and Pete was flat-out snoring with his head on his empty plate. Nobody else had gotten up yet. This seemed to be the only disadvantage to Patrick’s cooking: he kept odd hours. Breakfast was at 6:00 one morning, and 12:30 the next. Nobody ever knew.

“People watch people doing makeup on the internet?” Dallon sounded confused, and Ryan nodded excitedly. 

“Yeah! People do all sorts of things on the internet. Right Spence?”

“Wha?” Spencer looked over, wide-eyed, having not been listening to the conversation at all. Brendon mouthed ‘say yes’ and Spencer nodded vigorously. “Sure!”

“See? Thank you, Spencer.” Ryan looked smug, and Brendon shot Spencer and thumbs-up. Mikey giggled.

“I smell food,” Frank announced, suddenly appearing beside Gerard, who hissed and nearly dropped his coffee. “Oh, sorry Gee! Didn’t mean t’ scare ya.”

“We should put a sign on him,” Brendon mused. “It should say ‘do not disturb before noon’.”

“I ‘gree,” Mikey nodded. “And add ‘sleepy vampire’.”

“I second this,” Patrick said, coming in from the kitchen with plates of scones in his arms. “Make room, there’s still one more plate. Someone poke Pete, his arm’s in the way.”

“Not it,” Ryan muttered, and Brendon echoed him. Nobody seemed to want to disturb the sleeping Pete. Patrick sighed, handed the last plate he was carrying to Dallon, and poked his boyfriend. A MONSTER ERUPTED FROM HIS SOUL, SNAPPING THE TABLE AND BLOWING UP THE HOUSE… jk. But that’s what Mikey swore he saw. Pete was quite unhappy, and anyone within five feet was subject to his flailing wrath. Patrick was very happy he’d given Dallon the plate of scones for safekeeping; they certainly would have perished.

“I think we found something worse that Gerard in the mornings,” Frank spoke up, and Gerard shot him a cross look. “That’s a good thing!”

“Is not,” Gerard muttered, and Brendon gasped dramatically. 

“He speaks!”

“Surprise, fucker.”

“Language!” Dallon, Mikey, and Patrick reprimanded all at once.

“Sorry. Is there more coffee?”

Spencer hopped up and fetched the coffeepot from the kitchen, for which Gerard looked grateful.

“Someone go get Josh and Tyler, breakfast’s ready,” Patrick said, and Dallon got up and headed for the stairs.

“Boys! Patrick made scones!” The others could hear him calling down the hallway.

“Coming!” was Josh’s faint reply.

“Prob’ly literally,” Brendon said under his breath, and almost everyone laughed; Patrick rolled his eyes. “What else d’you think they’re doing, ‘Trick?”

“I don’t get it,” said Mikey plaintively. 

“I should hope not,” Ryan told him. “Ask in a few years.”

“A few years!” Mikey frowned. “That’s a long time.”

The boys were saved from further explanation by Dallon, who returned with Josh and Tyler behind him. “Time to eat!”

Everyone grabbed scones and dug in, showering Patrick with praise for his cooking and also probably with crumbs nobody bothered to swallow before telling Patrick how great he was. He looked somewhere between honored and disgusted.

“So what do we have planned for today?” Dallon asked, looking around the table. “Frank, you start.”

“Brendon’s taking me out to practice driving! He found a good parking lot that’s usually empty!”

“Alright, be careful,” Dallon said, directed mostly to Brendon. “Are you going to drive Josh to work first?”

Josh nodded. “They’re going to drop me off. I’m working from eleven to four.”

“Great. Tyler, are you going to volunteer today?”

“Yep! I can bike, it’s only like… ten minutes.”

“Make sure to check the tire pressure,” Spencer told him. “I totally didn’t see Pete and Frank messing around with the bikes in the driveway yesterday…”

“Noted,” Tyler said gratefully.

“Um… Pa, can I dye my hair red?” Gerard asked cautiously, more awake thanks to his second cup of coffee.

“Sure!” Dallon grinned. “Would you like to do it at home or go to a salon?”

“At home!! I can do it!” Frank bounced excitedly in his seat.

“Have you done hair before?” Ryan asked him.

“No, but-”

“Then I’d suggest letting Josh do it,” Ryan said. Frank looked hurt. “Look, once Josh let Pete do his hair and it was so bad that he shaved his head. Do you want Gee to shave his head because you did his hair really bad?”

“No,” Frank admitted. “Actually maybe. He’s cute no matter how much hair he has.”

Gerard blushed.

“Alright, let’s put it this way. Gee wants red hair, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is red hair the same thing as no hair?”

“No…”

“There you have it,” Ryan looked proud. “Don’t do your boyfriend’s hair, it’s a favor to him.”

“Fine,” Frank said. “But I get to watch!”

\-----

That night, Josh set up what he dubbed ‘Josh’s Super Sick Salon’ in the bathroom (Mikey made a sign and everything), and dyed Gerard’s hair. He wore a trash bag so as not to color his shirt, and Frank nearly got away with drawing a penis on the back before Josh caught him.

“It’s gonna get dirty anyway!” Frank complained, but Josh took the sharpie and put it on the top shelf above the sink. Frank pouted, climbing in the bathtub and telling them to wake him up when it was done. Plenty of bleach and red dye later, the bathroom looked like a murder scene, but the deed was done. Gerard’s hair was as red as Ryan’s face whenever Brendon made sex jokes, and Josh was pretty proud of himself.

“Frankie, wake up!” Gerard squealed. “Look, look!”

Frank rubbed his eyes and looked at his boyfriend, a grin spreading across his face. “It’s amazing!”

“Right?! Thanks, Josh!”

“Anytime,” Josh said genuinely. “Hate to hit a serious note here, but we should probably clean the bathroom. Just because this stuff looks like blood, and I’m sure you guys remember the last time the bathroom was covered in blood…”

“Oh, yeah… Frank, can you run and grab the cleaning stuff from under the kitchen sink? I’ll get some rags,” said Gerard. Frank nodded, bouncing down the stairs to fetch the cleaning spray.

“Is it done?” Mikey poked his head out of the living room, where most of the boys were watching cartoons. 

“Yeah! We just gotta to clean the bathroom, then Gee ‘ll come down and show everyone!”

“Awesome!” Mikey smiled, disappearing back to the couch. Frank grabbed the spray bottle and skipped back to the stairs, pausing to laugh at himself for a moment. He was skipping. Actually skipping, and he didn’t even know how to skip. Nobody had ever taught him, he supposed he’d never been happy enough as a child to skip or frolic or any of that shit. But maybe he was now. He made a mental note to thank Dallon for the billionth time, and to tell Gerard how much he meant to him. They spent nearly twenty minutes scrubbing dye from the counters and floor, and Frank enjoyed every minute of it, joking around with Josh and Gerard.

“Looks clean enough to me!” Josh finally announced, and they all exchanged high-fives.

“I’m gonna go show off my hair!” Gerard scrambled downstairs, Frank close behind. He marched into the living room and everyone cheered, raining him with their highest compliments. He was glowing, trying different poses as Brendon took pictures.

“I’ve got an idea,” Ryan said, taking Gerard’s hand and dragging him upstairs. Ryan opened his closet and dug through until he found what he was looking for: a pair of leggings, a skirt, and heels.

“Put these on, I have to grab something from Tyler’s room.”

Gerard did so, and Ryan returned a minute later with a flowy, flowered button-up blouse. Ryan watched him pull on the shirt and look shyly into the mirror, and he grinned.

“Would you like makeup?”

Gerard nodded, and Ryan sat him down and carefully lined his eyes and filled in his lips.

“Beautiful! C’mon, let’s go!”

Gerard looked somewhat hesitant.

“Nobody’s going to judge you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Pete went through a crop-top phase, and Tyler wore a skirt for a solid week once. Those heels belong to Brendon, and I wore eyeliner every day for two years, too.”

“Alright,” Gerard stood up, wobbling a bit, and Ryan steadied him as they headed back downstairs to the living room.

“Oh my god Gee… you look so fucking pretty,” Frank gasped, standing up and looking his boyfriend up and down. Gerard blushed and spun in a circle, his skirt fluttering with the movement. 

“That’s one of the best outfits I’ve ever seen,” Spencer announced, and everyone seemed to firmly agree.

“Your legs look amazing in my heels, you can keep them,” Brendon said. 

“I’m gonna go put on a crop-top!” Pete scurried off and returned wearing a neon-yellow one. Tyler grinned at Gerard, stepping up and straightening out the flowered shirt he’d borrowed from his closet.

“There you go. Looking good, did Ryan do the makeup?”

“I did,” Ryan said proudly. “I think it does look pretty great, thank you.”

Gerard ran his fingers through his hair and tugged on his skirt, sticking his hip out and posing for everyone. He looked nervously at Dallon and was comforted by Dallon’s huge grin, and smiled in return. Dallon stood up and held out his arms, and Gerard relaxed into the hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dallon told him quietly, and Gerard looked up with gracious eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated.


	21. She's nice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we have it, folks. The end. I hope you enjoy.

“Okay, now geeently press down on the accelerator,” Brendon said, and Frank did. The car started to move, and Brendon gave him a thumbs-up. “Great! Now turn left, we’re getting close to the end of the parking lot…”

Frank turned sharply, squeaked, and stomped on the brakes out of fear.

“Oh my god I’m gonna die!”

“No no no you’re doing great! You just psyched yourself out. C’mon, you got this!”

Frank carefully pressed the gas, forgetting to breathe as the car turned and began to move straight again.

“Breathe,” Brendon reminded him. “Let’s work on stopping smoothly, okay? I want you to stop by that white line. Don’t slam on the brakes, do it gently.”

Frank held his breath again as the car rolled to a stop. He was gripping the steering wheel like Gerard gripped his coffee in the mornings.

“Great job! Now take your foot off the brakes and sloooowly push the gas… Don’t forget to breathe, Frank.” Brendon smiled kindly at him.

“I’m just nervous,” Frank’s voice shook as the car began to move.

“I was nervous too when I was learning, but don’t worry, usually the most nervous people make the best drivers because they’re so attentive.”

Frank nodded jerkily, his breath catching as they neared the end of the parking lot again. He eased off the gas and made the u-turn slowly before straightening out the car and looking somewhat proud and terrified at the same time.

“Great job!” Brendon exclaimed. “That was so much better!”

Frank smiled, accelerating with more confidence this time as they crossed the lot again. He practiced stopping, going, turning, even pulling into a parking space once or twice. He got better with each try, and Brendon couldn’t be more proud of his little brother.

\-----

“Mikes, we really need to get you some new clothes,” Dallon said, looking over at Mikey as they took a break from playing bass and listened to Tyler and Gerard sing duets. “I can’t believe how fast you’re growing!”

“I’m taller than Frank and Patrick now!” Mikey grinned.

“How would you like to take a trip the the mall?”

“Did you say mall?” Ryan seemed to appear out of nowhere at the word. “I’m down.”

“You’re always down to go shopping,” Spencer said, following him into the room. “We should probably wait for Brendon and Frank to get home, I know Brendon wants a new tank top.”

“Family shopping trip?” Ryan asked hopefully, and Dallon laughed.

“Sure. Family shopping trip it is.”

\----

They’d had to wait a couple hours to leave because Josh didn’t get off work until the afternoon, but at long last everyone was ready to pile into the two cars and suffer a half hour of being packed together to get to the mall. Frank had managed to talk his way into sitting in the passenger’s seat of Pete’s car, claiming he “had to watch someone drive” since he was learning, despite the fact that he was tiny and only occupied about three fourths of the seat. In reality, he was just sick of being squished between people in the back. (The honor had been given to a displeased Brendon).

“Ewww oh my god Bren stop licking me!” Ryan squealed, and Pete wanted to throw them both out the window. Unfortunately, he couldn’t reach them from the driver’s seat.

“Brendon, stop licking your boyfriend,” he sighed instead.

Brendon rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t complaining last n-”

“Shut up!” Ryan’s face turned pink.

“Send help,” Spencer mumbled halfheartedly. “I don’t know why I agreed to ride with you two.”

“You’re the only one who can put up with them for more than twenty minutes,” Frank told him. “That’s what Patrick said, and he’s one of the nicest people I know.”

“Patrick’s the nicest motherfucker you’ll ever meet,” Pete corrected. “And the best boyfriend.”

“No, Gee is!” Frank said at the same time as Ryan and Brendon announced that they were the best.

“Team forever alone,” Spencer sighed, looking out the window.

“Aw, don’t say that,” Brendon protested. “You’ll meet someone great.”

“You will,” Frank nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry.”

Spencer seemed like he might protest, but shrugged and went back to gazing out the window.

\-----

Upon arriving at the mall, everyone split into groups with the promise to meet back up at the food court in an hour. Ryan, Gerard, and Brendon headed off to Forever 21, while Frank, Pete, and Patrick elected for Hot Topic (Patrick only because Pete was going), and Mikey went with Tyler, Josh, Dallon, and Spencer to look for clothes at Target. Tyler and Josh walked hand-in-hand, and Dallon kept one arm around Spencer and one around Mikey.

“I like this shirt,” Josh said suddenly, stopping in front of a rack of flannels. The one he was eyeing was black and white and didn’t seem to have sleeves.

“It’d look good on you,” Tyler told him, grinning. Josh held it up to himself, looking in a mirror that was attached to a nearby shelf. 

“You should get it,” Mikey told him, and Dallon nodded in agreement. Spencer had wandered off to look at t-shirts, and seemed to be trying to decide between two. Finally he shrugged and picked up both, then kept browsing.

“Hey Mikes, come look at these sweaters!” Tyler called. Mikey scurried over, letting Tyler pick out a few for him to try on. Tyler was smart, Mikey figured he probably had good taste.

“You should get a new jacket,” Josh was telling Dallon. “Yours is old and there’s rips in the sleeves…”

“Alright,” Dallon relented. “I’ll look around.”

Josh seemed satisfied with this and meandered over to the pants section. He grabbed a pair of skinny jeans for Tyler and a few pairs of different jeans for Mikey to try, and some sweatpants for himself. Some people liked to take their time and look at all the options, but he was more in favor of the grab-some-and-hope-for-the-best method.

After fifteen minutes, everyone had a pile of clothing tossed over their arm and they headed to the fitting rooms to try things on. Nearly another fifteen minutes later, Dallon found a coat he was happy with, Tyler liked the skinny jeans and shirt he’d found, Spencer decided to buy both of his t-shirts, Josh thought sweatpants were the best thing since sliced bread, and Mikey chose a couple pairs of tight jeans and a sweater that Tyler had picked out. They decided to go to the comic store next to browse and look at new releases.

\----

Ryan, Gerard, and Brendon marched arm-in-arm into the Forever 21, ignoring the odd looks they were getting for being in a mostly “girl’s” store. 

“I need cute jeans,” Ryan said. “Maybe light-colored ones. Black is nice, but I want variety.”

Brendon nodded in agreement. “D’you think they sell leggings here?”

“Dunno, probably,” Ryan shrugged. “Should we ask?”

Gerard’s eyes widened and he shrunk a little bit.

“Nah,” Brendon said, noticing this. “We’ll figure it out.”

They scanned the various racks of clothing as they walked, and Gerard stopped suddenly as something caught his eye.

“What is it?” Ryan asked. “Ohhh, wanna try it on?”

Gerard touched the clingy black fabric of the dress in front of him carefully, like it might break. He bit his lip and nodded.

“Awesome!” Brendon grinned. “Grab it, we’ll try shit on once we have more.”

Gerard grasped the hanger and took the dress from the rack, looking at it like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“Guys, look at these flowery leggings!” Ryan said. “They’re Pretty Odd, but I think I like them.”

“The ones with zebra stripes are my favorite,” Brendon decided, snatching them up.

“These ones are sparkly!” Gerard draped them on top of the dress, over his arm.

“I love this blouse,” Ryan studied the pattern of a green top intently before scooping it up. The three of them stuck closely together as they browsed, each racking up a fair amount of clothing to try on. Finally, they headed for the fitting rooms. They had their routine down: try something, step out and show each other, decide if they liked it, and repeat. Gerard ended up buying a black dress, jean shorts, and a blue top. Ryan decided on flowery leggings and pastel jeans. Brendon chose a sparkly shirt, a simple tank top, and a gray hat. 

“We should take Gee to Hot Topic,” Brendon said. “I think Pete and Patrick and Frank are there.”

Ryan nodded, swinging his bag of clothing over his shoulder. “Yeah, c’mon!”

\----

Everyone seemed happy with their purchases when they gathered in the food court later. Dallon pulled a couple tables together as Spencer and Josh went to get pizza.

“You can’t go wrong with cheese, right?” Spencer mumbled, squinting at the options. Josh nodded.

“Cheese it is.” He and Spencer stepped up to the counter.

“We’ll have three large pizzas, please,” Spencer said, and the man behind the counter raised his eyebrows.

“Lots of friends?”

Spencer laughed. “I wish, but no. Nine brothers.”

“Nine? Shi- shoot, man. That’s a lot. Do you all get along? Your mom and dad must be pretty strict to keep you in line.”

Josh snorted under his breath.

“We all get along really well. We don’t have a mom, but our dad’s pretty cool.” Spencer smiled politely.

“That’s quite something,” the man said. “You’re order number 109. Cash or credit?”

“Cash,” Spencer said, digging out his wallet and handing the man a couple bills. He took them, tucked them away in the register, and handed Spencer the change and recept. 

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer said politely. He and Josh stepped back to wait for their pizza, watching people go by. After a minute or two, Josh nudged Spencer.

“Dude, I think the girl over there is looking at you. In a good way.”

Spencer laughed. “Alright.”

“No, I’m serious. Glance over there.”

Sighing, Spencer turned his head and caught the girl’s eye. She smiled, covering her mouth and blushing a bit. 

“Oh,” Spencer said, somewhat taken aback. He looked back to Josh. “She looks nice and cute. What do I do?”

“Talk to her!”

“No!”

“I’ll do it,” Josh said seriously.

“No!”

“Will you do it?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m gonna do it. And keep in mind that I’m terrified of people, so I’m doing this for you.” Josh walked straight over to the girl’s table, where she was sitting with her friend. Spencer covered his face, watching from between his fingers.

“Hi, I’m Josh. My brother Spencer thinks you’re really cute, but he’s too shy to tell you, so I thought I would.”

The girl blushed. “Tell him I think he’s really cute too.”

“Spencer! The nice girl thinks you’re cute!” Josh said rather loudly, and Spencer thought he might just die of embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Josh.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. Come here.”

Spencer cautiously made his way over to the table, his face approaching Ryan-when-embarrassed red.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he squeaked.

“I’m Mindi,” she replied shyly.

“NOW KISS!!!” Brendon shouted, appearing out of nowhere, and Spencer was positive that he was going to die right then and there. Josh sighed, shaking his head and leading Brendon away to go wait for the pizza.

“Sorry about that,” Spencer sounded mortified. “My brothers are the worst.”

“Mine are pretty bad too,” Mindi giggled. “I have three.”

“I have nine.”

“Woah…” Mindi’s eyes widened. “You win.”

“They’re all over there,” Spencer gestured to where the rest of his family was sitting. “Well, minus Josh and Bren.”

“How old are they? Are you somewhere in the middle?”

“Just about. Brendon and Josh and Pete all turned eighteen; Patrick, Tyler, Ryan, and I are all seventeen. Frank’s sixteen, Gee’s fifteen, and Mikey’s eleven.”

“Which one has red hair? It looks really cool,” Mindi said, peering at the group.

“That’s Gee. Josh helped him dye it,” Spencer responded. “It made the bathroom pretty messy, but they cleaned it up.”

Mindi laughed. “I helped my friend dye theirs purple, and their entire sink turned purple! Their parents weren’t happy.”

“Oh no… Did they get in trouble?”

“Not really, just a lecture. What about… Gee, you said it was?”

“Yeah, Gee! He wasn’t in trouble at all, Dallon’s really chill about that kind of thing.”

“Dallon?”

“My dad. We’re all fostered or adopted, so we all call him different things. I’m used to Dallon, but Gee calls him ‘Pa’ and Frank and Mikey call him ‘Dad’. Most of the others go with ‘Dal’.”

Mindi nodded. “My two younger brothers are adopted. I’m the last kid they had before my mom decided she hated giving birth.”

“It does sound pretty awful,” Spencer said. “I have a lot of respect for vagina-bearing people who give birth. And other vagina-bearing people. And just people.”

“That’s new,” Mindi looked at Spencer adoringly. “All the guys at my school are dicks.”

“That sucks,” Spencer frowned. “I feel like a lot of people our age are kinda dicks.”

“True,” Mindi said emphatically. “I think-”

“Spence! Pizza’s ready!” Pete called loudly, and Spencer rubbed his temples. 

“I swear to fucking… sorry about him. I have to go. Can I have your number?”

Mindi nodded, grinning, and swapped phones with Spencer to exchange information.

“Text you later,” she said, waving as he headed off to sit with his family.

“Bye,” he waved back, smiling. As soon as he got back to the table(s), Brendon pounced.

“Ohmigod who was that?! Do you like her? Are you going on a date? Are you in LOVE???!!!!”

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbled halfheartedly around a mouthful of pizza.

“That was totally a yes. OHMIGOD!!!!”

“Shut up, Brendon.”

“Did you get her number? You BETTER have gotten her number. If you didn’t-”

“Dallon, please tell Brendon to shut up,” Spencer begged.

“Brendon, leave Spencer alone,” Dallon reprimanded, and Brendon pouted.

“Fine, I see how it is.”

\-----

It was midday on a Saturday when Dallon got a call. He grabbed the phone and held it to his ear with his shoulder, shuffling his tax papers into a pile and putting his pen down.

“Hello?”

“Hey Dallon!”

“Oh, hi Sarah! What’s going on?”

“Not much…” she sounded like she was up to something, Dallon thought. “How are the boys?”

“They’re doing well, everything’s good,” Dallon told her. “Why?”

Sarah sounded mock-offended. “I can’t just call to ask how things are going?”

“Well, you can, but I’ve found over the years that you usually have ulterior motives,” Dallon said with a laugh.

“That’s fair. I do have a question for you…”

\----

Dallon spent the rest of the day listing and relisting pros and cons in his head. Eventually he wrote them out, because he had to file his taxes and he couldn’t focus properly. He’d like to think it helped, but he was really just as distracted by the decision. Finally, just around dinnertime, he gave up for the day. He’d do taxes tomorrow. With a sigh, he got up and headed to the kitchen, where Patrick was just pulling a couple casseroles out of the oven.

“Smells delicious,” he said, smiling, and Patrick thanked him.

“Will you go tell everyone it’s dinnertime?” Patrick asked.

“Of course.” Dallon made his way to the living room, where almost everyone was watching Spongebob. “Boys, food’s ready!”

“What did Patrick make tonight?” Gerard asked. “It smells good.”

“Casserole. I got a sneak peek, it looks delicious!”

Everyone pushed and pulled themselves to their feet, ambling after Dallon into the dining room. They sat down, thanked Patrick, and dug in. There wasn’t much chatter at first, there never really was. Everyone was too focused on eating for five or ten minutes, but after that they began to talk about something or another.

“Pa, you’re quieter than usual today. Is everything alright?” Gerard asked, looking across the table at Dallon.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Dallon smiled. “I just have an important decision to make.”

“Are we allowed to know about it?” asked Frank curiously. Everyone was silent, their eyes on Dallon.

“Well… Yes. I think it would be good for you boys to help me with this one.” Dallon cleared his throat. “How would you all feel about another sibling?”

“What’s he like?”

“How old is he?”

“What’s his name?”

“Is he nice?”

Dallon was bombarded with questions, and raised his hands for quiet.

“She’s nine years old, and her name is Ashley.”

\---FIN---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what, this isn't the end! There's a bonus epilogue that I'll post in a few days, maybe less if people remind me. So feel free to get after me about that! Anyway, thanks so so much for reading! Any feedback/nagging is much appreciated.


	22. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. There will be a sequel, if anyone wants to see anything in particular, please let me know because I love suggestions!

(Bonus content!)

Spencer waited outside the movie theater nervously, wishing he’d asked Pete to stay until Mindi got there. He was excited, but the kind of excited where he felt like he might also want to run away. He figured it was a good thing he didn’t, because he felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around to see Mindi grinning at him.

“Hi!”

“Hi,” he replied, a smile tugging at his cheeks. “Ready?”

She nodded, he offered her his hand. She took it, lacing their fingers together and shooting him that infectious grin. They walked inside, looking at all the old posters that hung on the walls. 

“What would you like to watch?” Mindi asked, looking up at him. 

“Hm, there’s… the Lego Batman Movie, Fifty Shades Darker, some horror movie, the new one about the big gorilla, La La Land, and the one about the Great Wall of China that has a white guy on the poster.”

Mindi laughed. “Not to sound really lame, but can we watch the Lego Batman movie?”

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” Spencer admitted. They stood in line and got tickets, and then Spencer bought them both popcorn. They decided to be totally cliche and choose seats in the back, and somehow Mindi had fit an entire blanket in her purse, so they snuggled up together under it.

“How…” Spencer was still bemused by how she managed to pull a blanket out of her purse, but he wasn’t complaining.

“It’s a secret,” she giggled. “Shh, movie’s starting!”

\----

They both loved the movie, though they had to have been the oldest people there who weren’t parents. Afterwards, Mindi managed to stuff the blanket back in her purse, and they headed out to the parking lot to get picked up.

“That was really fun,” Mindi said, and Spencer nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to do this again sometime?” he asked, blushing a bit.

“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly, and she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. When they broke away, it was hard to tell who had more color in their cheeks.

“I like you,” Mindi whispered.

“I like you too,” Spencer replied, looking down at her with a smile.

“Would you -um- would you be my boyfriend?” she asked, her voice shy.

“I think I’d like that,” he said, his smile becoming more of a grin. A car honked loudly from the curb, and the two of them jumped apart. Mindi looked a bit flustered.

“That’d be my older brother,” she sighed. Spencer took her hand and walked her to the car, opening the door for her and giving her brother a polite nod. She waved as the car pulled away, and he waved back. Since when was his life such a goddamn cliche? He decided not to complain. Pete’s car pulled up, and he sighed at the sight of Brendon in the back. He prepared himself for the relentless questions, fixed the collar of his shirt, and hopped in.

\----The end for real----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support! Feedback or suggestions would be greatly appreciated. I hope you're all well, and as always, thanks for reading. xo


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